


Solace Amidst The Chaos

by sn0w0wl



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Dragon Age AU, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 07:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 113,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sn0w0wl/pseuds/sn0w0wl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parean Amell left the Circle to begin her new life with the Wardens. When she meets the subject of her secret obsession, however, her world changed forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Parean Amell has been recruited by Duncan and they are on their way to Ostagar. Parean is trying to come to terms with the events at the Circle Tower but bad memories continue to plague her._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This is my AU version of events during the Blight. In my virtual world, things are very different..._

**Chapter 1  Memories Past**

_'How did this happen?'_

Parean walked silently beside Duncan, the sights and sounds around her fading into the distance as she tried desperately to reconcile the events of her last day at Kinloch Hold.

She had passed her Harrowing easily; which came as no surprise to herself or anyone else. First Enchanter Irving had taken a special interest in her when she came to the Circle Tower and saw to her training personally. She was a talented healer and an expert at manipulating her fire spells, easily transitioning from a small lick of flame in her palm to engulfing her target in a blazing inferno within a heartbeat.

It was her experience with many of the Circle's Templars that proved to be most valuable in passing the Harrowing's true test. Parean was young and naïve when she came to the Circle and believed the stories about the Templars protecting the mages. It would be a Templar who taught her to never blindly trust anyone nor take anything at face value.

As the years in the Circle passed and she entered into her womanhood, she noticed many of the Templars staring at her in strange ways. Her innocence lead her to believe that their attempts to get close to her and lingering touches were appropriate. 

_'After all, the Templars protect the mages, don't they?'_ her mind would rationalize. _'Perhaps you just didn't notice before.'_

 _'Ser Violeur'_  Parean's body shuddered involuntarily at the memory. With a softly spoken incantation, she forced the image back into the depths of her mind where she held her deepest fears and darkest moments.

"Are you well, child?" Duncan's voice broke through her thoughts of the past, hurdling her mind back to the present.

"Wha?" she stammered, momentarily unsure of where she was and who was speaking.

"Is there something amiss? You were trembling and whimpering softly. I feared you might faint." Duncan's deep, soothing voice was full of concern.

Parean looked quizzically at the man next to her. She remembered him; Duncan...Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens...the man who saved her from Aeonar after Jowan...

"Parean?" Duncan voice was loud as he grabbed her arms and shook her, bringing her out of her stupor.

"Yes..Duncan...I'm...fine...It's just...nothing...I'll be alright. Thank you for your concern and I'm sorry that I worried you." Parean tried to sound convincing. She could not, would not speak of those memories.

She gazed upon her surroundings like an awestruck child. She had few memories of the world outside the Circle Tower and so every sight, every sound was intriguingly beautiful to her.

As they passed through Lothering, she closed her eyes and smelled the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread, and a variety of meats that were being slowly roasted on spits in the fire pits outside of the tavern. She listened to the sounds of children running and playing their games in the fields, and the hushed tones of the many refugees that had managed to find their way to Lothering. For a brief moment, standing there with her eyes closed, she felt peaceful and content. It seemed like any small village in the Bannorn, with happy families and cheerful merchants offering their goods for sale to passing travelers.

Parean opened her eyes and her heart sank. The reality of the situation greeted her senses with full force. Lothering was packed to overflowing with refugees fleeing the Darkspawn horde. Many looked ill and, as she reached out with her healer's mind, she sensed the taint within them. The sight of children crying for their parents, women mourning the loss of their husbands and families, and men cowering in the tavern and Chantry sickened her. A pack of starving mabari ran by them, the leader clinching a piece of blackened, rotten flesh between his teeth. Parean couldn't tell whether it was human or not and she didn't care to find out. She wanted nothing more than to put this vile pit of misery behind her, so she quickened her pace toward The Imperial Highway.

"We are approaching Ostagar. Here, in the valley of this once great fortress, is where the king will lead his army against the horde." Duncan spoke solemnly as they moved closer to the great gates that gave entrance to the mighty stone structure. 

Even in ruins, Ostagar was an impressive sight. High stone walls surrounded the area with several ballistae stationed at strategic points making the fortress highly defensible. Once inside the gates, the only approach to the main encampment was a long bridge that would leave anyone crossing it completely exposed. Most impressive of all was the enormous tower that loomed over it all, providing an excellent vantage point for monitoring the entire valley.

"Can the Blight truly be stopped here?" Even given the obvious advantages that Ostagar provided them, Parean had her doubts.

"It must. Otherwise, Ferelden will fall." Duncan's words had an ominous tone to them and Parean was filled with a sense of foreboding. "King Cailan is confident that the coming battle will break the Darkspawn Horde. His army has won many smaller battles against the Darkspawn already." Parean noted that Duncan seemed ill-at-ease as he spoke.

"Is victory dependant on a few Grey Wardens, a handful of mages and the King's Army then? It would seem that we are outnumbered many times over." She began to consider the irony that Duncan saved her from death at Aeonar only to see her die at Ostagar. Were it not so tragic, she would have found great humor in the realization.

"We have other allies taking the field. There are, as you stated, the Grey Wardens, the Circle Mages and King Cailan's Army. Several Ash Warriors with their army of mabari hounds have joined the fight. They are warriors of great skill and cunning. Teyrn Loghain of Gwaren and his army are here as well. The Teyrn is planning the strategies to be employed during the battle." His words rang hollow as he tried to assure his young recruit that things were, indeed, well in hand.

 _'Teyrn Loghain...The Hero of River Dane...Teyrn Loghain is here.'_ Parean's mind drifted back to the hours upon hours she had spent in the Circle's library reading about The Occupation and The Hero of River Dane. Loghain Mac Tir had been a fascination for her ever since she first heard of his heroism and bravery in the defense of Ferelden and King Maric. He was more than a man to many in Ferelden; he was legendary, second only to Maric. 

And he was here. In this place. Planning every aspect of the coming battle; not just to win but to save the lives of those on the field. To save her life.

And her heart skipped a beat...


	2. Good King Cailan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Parean meets King Cailan and wonders if she has the courage to actually meet Loghain._ **

**Chapter 2  Good King Cailan**

Duncan didn't notice Parean's hesitation, or how her fair-skinned cheeks flushed at his mention of the Teyrn. Lost in his own thoughts, he even missed the slight gasp that unknowingly escaped her lips as her breath caught in her throat.

As they made their way toward the bridge leading to the main encampment, Parean's mind swirled with thoughts of Loghain. She wondered what it would be like to meet the man she had idolized for so long; hero-worship bordering on obsession. 

She had never seen him but the stories told of his dark, raven-colored hair and steel blue eyes that, when locked on to another's, would bore through the very soul of even the most stoic of men. He was said to have an equally dramatic effect on the fairer sex as well. There were many scandalous tales of when King Maric appointed him as Teyrn of Gwaren. It was said that the young noble women unashamedly pursued him, vying for his affection in an effort to become his Teyrna. Many women swooned in his presence, enchanted by his striking features and commanding stature but all were heartbroken when he chose to marry a commoner; the daughter of a cabinet-maker.

Other thoughts threatened to capture her mind; impure thoughts that warmed her heart while filling her with dread.

Parean shook herself. _'Regain control of your senses, woman! Must you always lose yourself to your imaginings? Perhaps the past few months of mental training were wasted upon you'._

What was wrong with her? She had spent the vast amount of her free time developing her mental control to the point where she could permanently lock away any unwelcome thoughts with a few spoken words. Now it seemed that her mind flooded with the memories and feelings she struggled to forget; they even intruded upon her attempts to explore new emotions. She must retain her focus; she must remain in control.

"Ho there, Duncan!"

An unknown but lilting voice stirred Parean from her haze. Her eyes fell on a remarkably handsome young man in golden armor. His flaxen hair gleamed in the morning sun and his sapphire blue eyes shone with a warmth and humanity that would melt a heart made of stone. Parean felt herself smile, as if she were being drawn to him by the sheer magnitude of his inviting gaze.

_'Things are not always as they seem.'_

She froze. Her mind was speaking to her again; reminding her that a pretty face and a kind look did not merit blind trust. Ser Violeur taught her that lesson well.

"King Cailan?!" Duncan clasped the hand of the man she now knew to be the king. Duncan's face softened as he greeted the king. He seemed to have a genuine affection for the man. Should she really be wary of him? Would Duncan trust someone who did not deserve it?

King Cailan glanced in Parean's direction and smiled. "This must be your new recruit from the Circle of Magi? Ho there, friend. Might I know your name?"

Parean deflected the question with her usual dry, sarcastic humor.

"Probably not, but then anything is possible I suppose."

The king's reaction surprised her. Most people were offended by her quips and she was generally seen as being standoffish and uncaring; even paranoid at times. King Cailan, far from being offended, laughed heartily at her comment. It was a full, mirthful laugh that compelled her to believe that he was, indeed, a good-natured man.

"And here I thought that all Grey Wardens were stuffy and serious all the time. She has spirit, Duncan. I like her. I do believe that Alistair and she will get along famously." His highness gave Duncan a jovial slap on the back.

"Yes...well...Parean is young, your majesty, and does not have sufficient experience in the world outside of the Tower of Magi. She must learn that a smart tongue is not always the most appropriate method of dealing with those above her station." Duncan's stern look was not lost on her, but she held her ground.

"Nonsense. A smart tongue can serve you well in many situations. Especially with those who feel that they are above reproach. Just don't let my wife know that I said that." The king looked at her and gave a friendly wink. "You stay the course, young lady. That wit just may be what aids you most in the future."

 _'No, girl...don't'_ her mind admonished.

Parean didn't care. She liked the king. He seemed a decent man of good humor with a kindness and warmth that was infectious.

"Allow me to welcome you to Ostagar. I know you will be a fine addition to the Grey Wardens."

"Thank you, your majesty." She bowed graciously to the king.

"Forgive me, but I must cut this meeting short. If I do not allow Loghain to periodically bore me with his strategies I shan't hear the end of it. Well met, Mage Parean and farewell Grey Wardens."

Duncan and Parean bowed ceremoniously to King Cailan and he turned to attend to his meeting with Teyrn Loghain.

While crossing the bridge to the encampment, Duncan explained to his young recruit the events that were to occur before the day was done.

"While I cannot explain everything now, I can tell you that every recruit must go through a ritual we call 'The Joining'. There are ingredients to be gathered and preparations to make so we must begin as soon as we are able."

"Am I the only one who will take The Joining?" She had never thought to ask if there were others recruited as well.

"No. There are two other recruits, Daveth and Ser Jory, already at the camp. Now that we've arrived, the preparations for The Joining can begin. You may explore the camp, but I would ask that you not leave it. Find the newest Grey Warden, Alistair, go with him to collect Daveth and Ser Jory, and return to me. You can find me by the large fire near Teyrn Loghain's tent. Do not delay. It is imperative that we begin the ritual as soon as possible."

With that, Duncan took his leave to begin his preparations for The Joining.

Parean paused for only a moment. She knew precisely what she was going to do. Set in her decision, she walked up to the guard at the end of the bridge.

"Ho there," the guard greeted her cordially, "you must be the new recruit Duncan spoke of. Do you need any help finding anything?"

"Where might I find Warden Alistair?"

"Try to the north. I believe he was sent with a message for the mages." She paid only scant attention to where the guard pointed, already intent on her next question.

"And where might I find Teyrn Loghain?" She did her best to sound nonchalant about the inquiry.

"Over on the other side of the camp, just past the Royal Encampment." The guard pointed behind her and to the right.

"Thank you for your assistance." Parean said quickly, trying not to look anxious.

"Maker's blessings upon you Grey Warden." The guard nodded his head at her as she turned to leave.

She walked through the archway and saw two tents; one flying a banner with two dogs supporting a crown, which she determined must be King Cailan's tent. The other was flying a banner with a yellow Wyvern. She knew that banner well. That was the heraldry of Gwaren. Teyrn Loghain's tent...

She stopped several feet away from the guard outside the Teyrn's tent. King Cailan's voice could be heard from inside followed by what must have been Teyrn Loghain's. She felt her pulse quicken. Her heart leaped into her throat constricting her breathing. Her head spun slightly and her legs threatened to crumble.

 _'What's happening to me?'_ she wondered. She was feeling sensations and emotions that she could not identify. Was it nerves? Fear? Excitement? Anxiousness? She wasn't sure. She only knew that his voice, deep and authoritative, resonated through the camp and when it reached her ears, she felt chills up her spine and her heart began to pound.

Mustering her courage, she willed her body to move and strode toward the guard outside the Teyrn's tent.


	3. The Hero of River Dane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Loghain "discusses" his strategies with Cailan....and meets a new ally with a very peculiar manner about her._ ******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Loghain takes the stage..._

**Chapter 3  The Hero of River Dane**

_'Maker's Breath! The boy is insufferable!'_

Loghain's frustration was peaking unusually high as he tried in vain to rein in Cailan's enthusiasm so that they could get to the business at hand. The boy had been carrying on about his meeting with the newest Grey Warden recruit since he'd entered Loghain's tent. His patience was at its end.

"Enough Cailan!" Loghain barked. "I am more than aware of your fascination with the Wardens but we must determine our strategies for the battle. It serves no purpose for you to prattle on as you do."

"It is not prattling to inform the general of my armies about the arrival of new allies." Cailan shot him a menacing look that was greeted by the cold, icy stare of a man whose limits had been far exceeded.

"Fine, Loghain, I will speak no more about the Wardens. I do not, however, wish to continue listening to your prattle either! I tire of your endless talk of battle plans. You are the strategist here; pick your strategy and be done with it!" Cailan's exasperated tone only served to infuriate Loghain all the more.

"Prattle on!? Me? You accuse me of prattling on about strategies!?" Loghain spat out the words like venom. "Did you learn nothing from the lessons Maric and I taught you about leading an army? Apparently you deem it unnecessary to plan for any eventuality that may occur in battle. This prattle, this drivel, may actually save the lives of hundreds of men. Your life as well, as it is apparent that you refuse to listen to reason and dismiss your foolish notion of joining in the fight."

He could hear Maric's voice in his mind still, asking him to care for and protect Cailan should anything befall him. Maric had entrusted the boy to Loghain, and he cared for Cailan as though he were his own. 

_'You insolent child! You are Maric's son...do you not see that your life is too valuable to squander on your childish fantasies?'_

"It is not a fool notion! I am the King of Ferelden and I will lead the assault against the invasion of my country, just as my father did." 

"Maric was just as foolhardy about fighting alongside his men. You were raised on legends and fairytales, Cailan. Truth be told, Maric ended up on his arse and half dead most of the time. It was sheer dumb luck that he even survived the occupation. The man was unable to even stay on a horse!" Loghain inwardly chuckled as the memories of Maric landing in ditches and various prickly plants on their journeys through Ferelden.

Cailan grinned. "Yes, I know. He told me of his awkwardness in battle. He always said that he was never concerned since he had you at his side. As do I. I know you will see us all through this fight, just as you always have before." 

Loghain sighed. Cailan had always felt the need to prove himself worthy of the Theirin name. Maric the Savior cast a large shadow over his son and he longed to make his mark on the world. Loghain respected Cailan's desire to be seen as his own man, but this was neither the time nor the place for such action.

"And what of Anora?" Loghain's voice grew quiet. The thought of informing his daughter that her husband had been slain made his heart ache.

"What of Anora?" Cailan's reply had a sharp, painful edge to it.

"Would you see her widowed? Do you believe the nobles would blindly accept her ruling solely as Queen? And if they did attempt to unseat her, do you think she would willingly give up her crown? There would be civil war." The thought of the country fighting amongst itself while the darkspawn threaten to destroy Ferelden was more than he could bear. He would rather die than see his beloved country fall to blind fools.

"Of course they would follow her. I am not blind, Loghain. I am aware that the nobles believe Anora is the true ruler of Ferelden. I am king in name only; a figurehead." Though he tried not to show it, Loghain saw the hurt look in Cailan's eyes.

 _'So...he feels threatened by Anora as well. There will be no dissuading him from his course then.'_ He felt his chest tighten as he knew there was no winning this argument. The more he pushed Cailan, the stronger his resolve; so much like Maric.

Resigned, Loghain grudgingly gave in to Cailan's wishes. "Very well, Cailan. I will continue my work on planning the battle. I will inform you of my chosen strategies at the war counsel tonight."

"Thank you Loghain. I look forward to our meeting." Cailan clapped Loghain on the back and walked triumphantly out of his tent.

 _'For the love of the Maker, what now?'_ Loghain paced furiously around his tent.

Even when faced with the truth, Cailan still held to the legends of how Maric miraculously outwitted death several times over. Oddly enough, he also believed the tales of Loghain's indestructibility and flair for swooping in at precisely the right moment to save the day. Even if those tales were true, he had been a young man then. He groaned softly; Cailan would be the death of him, he was certain.

"Beg your pardon, my lord, but there is a young lady that wishes to speak with you." The guard approached Loghain cautiously, unsure of the current state of his temperament.

He wondered who the guard was referring to. Surely it was not Cauthrien, as she would simply have entered his tent. No matter; whoever it was would prove a viable, if momentary, distraction from his current dilemma. He turned to follow the guard.

As he exited the tent, he immediately recognized the woman as the new recruit Cailan had endlessly talked about. She was young, perhaps 20, with smooth, pale skin and delicate features. The silky strands of her honey-colored hair fell to her shoulders. What drew Loghain's attention was her eyes; as rich and piercing a blue as a clear sky just after the dawn.

"Well met, my lady." He gave her a gentlemanly bow. "I am Loghain, Teyrn of Gwaren. You must be Duncan's newest recruit?"

The girl's eyes widened as if in shock. "Y...yes, your grace. I am...I mean, my name is P...Parean." She stumbled over her words as she curtseyed before him. Loghain suppressed a half smile at the girl's gesture. He gathered that she did not know that one curtseys for royalty, not a simple noble. Social etiquette was not a priority in the Circle.

"I am...surprised that you know of me." Her attempts to avoid his eyes did not go unnoticed.

"I've heard a great deal about you, young lady. Cailan could not stop talking about your meeting. The First Enchanter spoke highly of you as well. Your skills will be a welcome addition to our cause." Loghain was distrustful of mages, but had come to know that not all were abominations waiting to strike at any moment. Magic had aided The Rebellion a great deal, and to have a skilled healer in their midst would be a great advantage.

He looked at her strangely. She seemed awestruck by his words and her inability to reply seemed odd to him. Her shoes suddenly became the fixed point of her gaze and she repeatedly tried to re-tuck the hair that was already firmly behind her ear. Small beads of sweat were slowly forming on her upper lip and forehead and her pale skin flushed. Was she truly this nervous?

_'Certainly it must be because she is outside of the Circle for the first time. What other reason?'_

After a few moments of silence, his curiosity begged to be sated. "Are you alright? I suspect it is your first time out from under the gaze of the Templars. The vastness of the world can be overwhelming, I know."

"Y...yes, your grace. I have not been outside of the Tower since I was a child. Please forgive my awkwardness. I...it is not leaving the Circle that has me...out-of-sorts." Loghain was amused at her failed attempt to dry her palms unnoticed.

"Then what, if I may ask, is ailing you? We need all our allies in top condition." He was concerned that this mage was not as strong-willed as he had been led to believe. This did not bode well.

The mage swallowed hard. She suddenly whispered a few words that Loghain was unable to discern. He became weary of this mage. Was she calling forth a demon or placing a curse upon him? His hand reflexively reached for his blade.

"Tis you, my lord!" she suddenly blurted out. "Maker's sake, forgive me...I...I did not mean it as it sounds. I simply meant that I have read so much about you...it is...humbling...to actually meet you in person." She let out a long sigh. "Forgive me, your grace. I have spoken out-of-turn."

 _'Of course...another who believes the fairytales. Yet another hero-worshipper who sees me as more than I am.'_ His blade hand relaxed.

"No need to apologize, my lady, um...Parean, was it? Might I say that a pretty young lady, such as yourself, should not waste her time with the foolish legends written of an old man." Loghain always used his dry, sarcastic wit in an attempt to lighten the mood but it usually had the effect of making him appear stand-offish and unfeeling. Few were truly able to understand his quips; Maric was one of those who did. He sighed inwardly; how he missed his friend.

Parean blushed, then smiled suddenly and retorted, "Thank you for your concern, my lord. Learning to appreciate the heroism and bravery of a, if I might say, dashing man such as yourself is no waste of time."

Loghain was taken aback. This mage, Parean, has a quick wit about her. He couldn't suppress the slight smile that touched his lips at her compliment. _'It has been a long time since anyone has referred to me as dashing.'_ he mused. Perhaps there was hope for her yet.

"If you'll excuse me, I must get back to my task. I'm sure we will meet again." Loghain bowed graciously.

"Of course, your grace. I must return to my task as well." Parean bowed in return.

With that, Loghain turned and re-entered his tent...and Parean, a smile brightening her features, walked to a secluded area...

and fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I would have fainted too...except, I would have done it the moment he walked out...lol..._


	4. Haunted by Secrets; Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Alistair and the recruits head into the Kocari Wilds...._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Into the wilds they go..._

**Chapter 4  Haunted by Secrets; Past and Present**

_'How can something that looks so beautiful be so cruel? Fate is a tricky whore...'_

Parean trailed behind as Daveth and Ser Jory followed Alistair through the Wilds in search of darkspawn. He wanted her by his side "for your protection", he said. She had convinced him that she should stay at a distance; her spells were "more effective when ranged", she lied. He didn't need to know the real reason she wished to be apart from their group and away from him.

She feared him.

#########

After her meeting with Teyrn Loghain, she was awakened by a gentle slap and several concerned voices inquiring as to her state of being. She assured the guards that it was merely a flush, perhaps from turning too quickly, and that she had regained her senses. 

Heading north, she began to look for Alistair. She found him speaking to one of the senior enchanters in the far part of the ruin.

As she approached the pair, she stopped abruptly when she saw him. She stood, staring at the man speaking so glibly to the elder mage. He was young, early 20's she guessed, with long wheat-colored hair that was secured back into a braid. Deep blue eyes shone with amusement as he spoke to his companion. The mage shouted about not having time to speak with the Revered Mother. The man retorted something about naming a grumpy child after the mage. The senior enchanter stormed off.

The man turned and saw her, and began slowly walking to greet her.

Parean felt her heart pound. Her chest tightened so that she could scarcely breathe. Sweat beaded her face and ran down her head in rivulets, soaking into the collar of her robes. Every muscle began twitching involuntarily, causing her to shake uncontrollably. She wanted to flee; to get as far away from the handsome, smiling man now approaching her. She was paralyzed with fear. No matter how hard her mind screamed for her body to obey, she could not move.

As he neared, she sensed the power within him. She knew what that power was; what he was, and her terror intensified. 

She couldn't comprehend what he was saying. Something about Blights bringing people together...asking her if she was alright...his name, Alistair. Her mind was racing; she was gripped with panic...only one thought...

 _'RUN! ESCAPE! I MUST GET AWAY!'_ she screamed internally. 

But she couldn't run, couldn't escape. Duncan instructed her to accompany him and she must carry out her task. Parean, garnering every ounce of her strength, focused on controlling her emotions.

 _'Calm...quiet...peace...maintain control...this is not he...he is gone...focus...breathe...'_ she repeated her mantra until she felt her body relax and return to normal.

#########

Now here she was, following him through the Wilds. Duncan sent them to collect darkspawn blood for the Joining and retrieve ancient treaties from the ruins of a Warden fortress. Alistair escorted them for protection from surprise attack because he can sense the darkspawn.

Alistair is a Warden. Parean knew he was something else as well. He was a Templar; young, handsome, charming and kind...just like...

She quietly invoked her incantation to, once again, banish the memory. Would she ever be rid of this torment? 

"Healing!"

Parean jolted. Ser Jory lay on the ground, writhing in pain with large amounts of blood spurting out from his numerous jagged gashes. Surrounded by Daveth and Alistair, darkspawn charged at them mercilessly, mouths agape as they cried out for blood. With careful precision, Parean engulfed the nearest darkspawn in flames. Their piercing screams died out quickly as their putrefied flesh melted from their bodies, tendons and ligaments crackling under the intense heat.

She ran to Ser Jory's side, casting a paralyzing spell, halting another group of approaching darkspawn. Daveth and Alistair moved in and quickly dispatched their helpless victims. Parean's hands, glowing with a brilliant blue, hovered above Ser Jory's body, easing his pain and mending the skin of his gaping wounds. Her mind examined him internally for any unseen injuries. Finding none, she stepped back as Daveth and Alistair gently helped him stand.

"What's wrong with you? Did you not see the darkspawn attacking?" Alistair gave her an incredulous stare.

"Forgive me, Warden Alistair. I am not accustomed, as of yet, to using my power in the presence of a Templar." Parean backed away as he took a step toward her.

"I've told you over and over. I am not a Templar. I am a Grey Warden and if you wish to live long enough to take your Joining, I would suggest you focus on our task." Alistair's admonishment fell on deaf ears.

Parean bowed her head slightly but kept her clear blue eyes fixed on him. "Pardon my boldness, Warden Alistair, but you possess the powers of a Templar. That fact cannot be denied or brushed aside merely because you did not take your vows." Her hand tightened around her staff. Even though she knew it was futile to use magic against one who had the abilities of a Templar, she would fight to her dying breath. 

_'To your dying breath...perhaps then you would be free of your ghosts...'_

Alistair sighed deeply. "You are not an apostate and I am not here to hunt you. In fact, it's greatly to my personal advantage for you to use your magic to its fullest extent."

"Yes, Warden Alistair." She slowly replaced her staff into the holder she wore on her back and silently waited for them to proceed.

"And stop calling me that. I am simply 'Alistair'." He said with an annoyed tone.

"If you wish me to cease thinking of you as a Templar, then I must associate you with your 'warden' title. When it is firmly planted in my consciousness, then I will use your proper name." She knew it was a lie; she was incapable of ignoring that he was a Templar. She only sought to appease him and end the discussion.

Dejected, Alistair groaned, "Fine. Whatever. Let's move on."

After collecting three vials of darkspawn blood, they continued further into the Wilds in search of the fortress ruins. Everywhere they passed was covered in the darkspawn taint. Blackness permeated the landscape so that there was no tree, no crop, no flower, no blade of grass that was untouched by their repulsive filth. The mutilated and twisted corpses of humans and animals lay strewn on the ground, the decaying flesh giving rise to a horrendously putrid stench that caused even a seasoned Knight like Ser Jory to retch.

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally came upon the ruins of the old Warden fortress. Several darkspawn barred their entry, lead by a large Hurlock Alpha. He raised his weapon with a guttural growl and the darkspawn responded, racing forward with weapons at the ready. Alistair ordered the wardens to attack. Blood and ichor sprayed into the air as the two groups clashed. 

Daveth, bow in hand, was taking aim on a Genlock when he was suddenly surrounded by a shimmering light. His head lolled back and choking sounds escaped his lips as the Crushing Prison spell bore down on his trapped body. Alistair turned and saw a Hurlock Emissary preparing to cast another spell on his incapacitated prisoner. Without hesitation or thought, he cast a spell to set Daveth free, and then charged at the emissary. When he was within range of the darkspawn mage, he used another of his Templar abilities to drain the spellcaster's mana and disable him. 

He was unaware that Parean was standing near him and she was struck by the force of his Templar magic. Her scream pierced through the noise of the battle as her own mana drained away and she collapsed to the ground, barely able to move.

"No! Parean! I'm coming!" Ser Jory rushed to protect their helpless mage as she lay sobbing on the ground. With the last of the darkspawn dispatched, Alistair and Daveth hurried over to the fallen mage.

"Maker's sake! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were there!" Alistair's worried tone matched the distress on his face as he surveyed the damage his attack had done to Parean. 

"Can you stand? Here, I'll carry you until your strength returns." He reached down for her.

Her blood-curdling scream and the petrified look of a trapped wild animal in her eyes shocked them all. They watched as she clawed the ground, feebly trying to drag herself away from him.

"NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME! PLEASE!" she begged, her body racked with her uncontrollable sobbing.

Alistair, stunned, continued to move toward her. "Wha...I'm not going to hurt you...please...I...I just want to..."

Daveth grabbed Alistair's arm and pulled him back. "I don't think that's the best idea. Seems she is terrified of you. Best to let someone else help her."

Ser Jory moved toward her. "Please, calm down Parean. There is no need to fear." His words were soft and soothing. Parean looked at him like a scared child. "May I help you until you are able to stand?" He slowly extended his arms toward her. She flinched momentarily, then nodded her head and allowed him to lift her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he carried her, still weak and trembling, toward the ruined fortress. 

Daveth followed them with Alistair, hurt and ashamed, trailing behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _To the Alistair fangirls out there...please don't hate me...her reaction WILL be explained..._


	5. In War, Victory. In Peace, Vigilance. In Death, Sacrifice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Parean and company retrieve the Warden Treaties and return to Ostagar....Parean explains a little bit about why she can be such a babbling fangirl..._ **

**Chapter 5  In War, Victory. In Peace, Vigilance. In Death, Sacrifice.**

 

Little was left of the Warden fortress, only the ancient remnants of what had once been a mighty and imposing tower. A stone skeleton lying open and bare, decimated throughout the centuries by the ravages of time and war. 

Daveth scoffed, "Is this it? The 'mighty' Warden fortress that we risked our lives to find? Seems little more than a stone floor and a ramp leading to nowhere; more 'rubble' than 'ruin' if you ask me." He jumped as a portion of the second level collapsed, as if The Maker himself was attempting to validate his comment. "Let us find these treaties and leave. I can't see the back of the Wilds too soon."

Ser Jory, still carrying his burden, agreed. "Yes, let's have it done. Parean is in need of aid. We should take her to the mages quickly."

Alistair flinched at his words and nodded his affirmation. 

"Twould be wise of you to release her..."

Alistair spun around, sword drawn, toward the intruder; a scantily-clad and ravishingly beautiful young woman. Her long and lustrous hair was black as coal and secured at the top of her head in what, as it seemed to Alistair, resembled a horse's tail. He stared at her eyes which shimmered, almost glowed, a dazzling yellow. She returned his gaze with a cold, hard glare that set him even more on edge. He sensed the magic within her; she was a mage, an apostate. 

_'This is not goodnot good at all.'_ Alistair thought to himself. _'If she attacks, I cannot disable her without risking further damage to Parean. What to do?'_

"Who are you? What do you want?" The woman simply sneered at his demand.

She sauntered over toward Ser Jory, completely unconcerned that Alistair appeared ready to attack. "You enter my Wilds and deign to question me? Tis more likely that I should question your presence, would that I cared enough to desire an answer; I do not. What is of interest to me is saving this young woman from the blithering fools in her company."

She stopped in front of Ser Jory, her almost demon-like eyes fixed upon him. "Release her. Now." The sheer intensity of her aura caused his heart to pound and he instantly retreated a few steps. He feared less about what this woman would do to him than he did about what would happen to Parean if he complied.

Parean tried to lift her head and look toward the source of the strange voice but, in her weakened state, it simply fell back with a painful 'thump' against Ser Jory's chestplate. He looked down at her, the unspoken question _'What do you wish?'_ playing across his eyes. She smiled faintly, "It's alright, Ser Jory. Please, do as she asks."

"As you wish." he replied softly. He knelt down and gently laid her on the tower's stone floor. Slowly and with a watchful eye on the strange woman, he moved away from Parean to join Daveth and Alistair.

Alistair could not believe what had just happened. He roughly grabbed Ser Jory's arm. "What are you doing? Are you mad? She is helpless and you turn her over to a questionable stranger...an apostate...possibly an abomination?"

"What would you have me do? You heard Parean; it was her request that I release her and I'll not force the issue." Ser Jory's strained look gave evidence to the conflict he felt over his own actions.

"She is injured and not in her right mind. You should have taken her away from here. Daveth and I would have been able to battle the witch properly with Parean safely out of harm's way." He looked at Parean, lying almost motionless on the ground. He had already caused her so much pain and anguish with his unthinking act. He was determined to protect her, from himself and everyone; prove to her that he was not to be feared.

The witch smirked at Alistair. "Tis because of you that she is in this state, Templar. You have already put her in harm's way. I seek only to aid her in regaining her power. I would then take great pleasure in seeing her lay waste to you."

Alistair was indignant. _'How dare she?! She acts as if I hurt her intentionally!'_ A wave of guilt washed over him; his very thoughts reminding him that the witch was right. It was he who had caused Parean's injury. That fact made him despise her even more. He watched her carefully but said nothing.

The woman crouched beside Parean, studying her carefully. She removed a handful of brown roots from her pouch and placed them in the injured mage's hand. "This is elfroot. Consume them slowly and your strength will return."

Parean focused her mind on raising her hand to her mouth. The elfroot tasted pungent but its effects were immediate. She felt herself becoming stronger and within moments she was able to stand on her own.

"Th...thank you." Parean stammered, her eyes locked on the woman.

"You are welcome. So, you are Parean. You may call me Morrigan." Morrigan looked at Parean curiously. The girl was staring at her with wide-eyes as if awestruck. It was most disconcerting to have another woman look at her such. Were Parean a man, she would think her captivated by her looks but this was not the case. This was something completely different.

"Ahem! I said, where are the treaties?"

So intently focused on each other, neither woman noticed Alistair's approach nor his question. Parean turned to see him standing next to her and she quickly moved to position Morrigan between them. 

"I assume you refer to your Grey Warden Treaties. They are here no longer. My mother has protected them and she awaits your arrival. If you wish them returned, I shall take you to her." With that, Morrigan turned and headed off into the Wilds.

Alistair started to protest but it was pointless. Parean was already hurrying to catch up with Morrigan. _'Why is she so trusting of that witch?'_ The idea that she was willing to openly trust an obviously dangerous apostate while remaining terrified of her soon-to-be Grey Warden brother baffled him. There was no time to contemplate the matter as the mages were almost out-of-sight. The three men sped down the path to join them. 

Morrigan felt Parean's eyes as they bore down upon her. _'Why does she stare so?'_ The girl had not spoken a word since leaving the tower. She only stared and walked slightly behind Morrigan, looking away quickly when she would glance at her. She could stand it no longer.

Without even a passing glimpse at Parean, Morrigan grumbled, "If you continue to stare overlong, my features will be the last thing of which you will see."

Morrigan was taken aback at Parean's reaction. She did not shrink back nor did she cease her gawking. Her look seem to intensify, as if she was studying every expression, every gesture and movement of Morrigan's features. 

"Forgive me...I...I've just never met a woman...a mage...such as you." Parean's face flushed as she stumbled over her words. She felt her heart pound and her breath quicken. Her pulse raced as droplets of sweat traced down her face, once again, soaking the collar of her robe. 

_'Maker's Breath...are you going to pass out again?'_ her mind chided. 

"Such as me? To what do you refer?"

Parean swallowed hard and inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry...I did not mean to offend. I...I simply meant..." her voice trailed off.

_'If you wish to know...you must ask...'_

She saw Morrigan's confused look and quickly continued, "You are so...brave...so strong of will...you're a mage, a female mage, and yet you just faced a templar and didn't...back down" She fell silent; the amazement on her face clearly evident.

 _'She...admires me?'_ Morrigan was stunned, speechless. 

"I am not....brave...nor strong-willed." Parean seemed embarrassed by her confession.

 _'Rightly so.'_ Morrigan thought. She had watched this mage, seen her fighting in the Wilds. She was a mage a great power and skill. There was no reason for her to fear anyone, as few were her equal.

"Surely you know the level of your abilities. Tis foolish for you to be timid." Morrigan scolded her.

"I know, but in the Circle, we are taught to be wary of our powers. We must always be on guard, lest we succumb to the demons and become abominations. And, of course, there are...the templars." She shuddered visibly.

"Hah! Lyrium-addled puppets of the Chantry. They are nothing to fear, if one knows how to deal with them." Morrigan laughed mockingly at the thought. "Do you know nothing of courage?"

"I saw it once at the Circle, when Ser Cullen...aided me in a...matter...with another templar." She quietly spoke her incantation before continuing. "After that, I heard the stories of Teyrn Loghain and spent many months reading about his deeds. It was my hope that I would be able to discern what trait or attribute lead to such bravery, but to no avail. When I learned he was at Ostagar, I thought to ask him the source of his courage but it took all my strength, and my mind control spell, to even speak coherently with him. Even with that, I walked off and...faintedfrom the effort." Her fair-skin reddened at the memory.

"Let us speak no more of this; we have arrived." Morrigan gestured to a small hut that sat in the middle of a large clearing in the Wilds.

Taken in from a distance, the structure and its surroundings were quaint and serene. The modest hut, situated on the edge of a tranquil pond, was tri-leveled and constructed of wood and stone. A small rise formed a grassy glade next to the hut, adding to the beauty and peacefulness of the scene. Parean could almost hear the joyous laughter of a young Morrigan as she ran and played, deep in misadventures. Perhaps she would lie on the ground, the cool grass enveloping her, stare into the sky and envision what her life would become.

As they neared, the scene became much less idyllic. The hut was more of a hovel, seemingly barely large enough for one, much less two adults to share. The upper two levels hung precariously over the water with no outwardly visible means of ascending to them. What appeared to be a pond was, in reality, a marsh; cattails and mangled, leafless bushes jutting out from the fetid water. Even the glade had an ominous feeling about it. The grass was matted down, crushed under the weight of a beast that left large, clawed footprints in the earth. Parean thought they must be dragon prints as she had seen many examples of them in her readings, but she had never heard of dragons in Ferelden.

"Ah...at last the mighty Grey Wardens come for their treaties." The voice was strong, powerful and youthful sounding. A stark contrast to the aged woman who exited the hut and stood before them.

Alistair stepped forward, "Yes...we are here for the treaties. I am told that you have protected them. Many thanks, my lady. Forgive me, but we have many duties to accomplish and limited time. If you would hand me the documents, we shall be on our way."

The woman reached into the sleeve of her robe and produced the scrolls. She offered them to Alistair, adding solemnly, "Here. Take them to your leader. You would be wise to convince your king that this Blight cannot be ended as easily as he may wish."

"Fine. You have what you came for, now you may go." Morrigan's disdain for the situation was thinly veiled.

The old woman turns and smirked at Morrigan. "You will see your guests safely out of the Wilds, child," her tone sardonic.

Morrigan sighed loudly, "Yes, mother." She looked at her 'guests'. "Come, follow me."

#########

The room spun...flashes of white lights in her vision...Alistair screaming, "Watch out!"

Parean felt herself hit the hard floor with a sickening thud. Searing pain tore through her body as she tried to move. Her breathing was labored and gurgling sounds bubbled up with each gasp as she tried desperately to fill her lungs with air. She coughed, blood spurting from her mouth, her body seizing from the effort. Her head rolled to the side. The two guards that had accompanied them were dead. An arrow pierced the throat of one while the other's head lay several feet away from his body. 

Alistair was next to her, unconscious but alive, his sword arm bleeding from the circular opening left by the arrow that had cleanly passed through it. His body convulsed, disrupting the arrow buried deep in his gut causing the pool of blood collecting underneath him to widen. She raised her hand in an attempt to heal him but was again gripped by massive spasms. It was then she noticed the fletching and staffs of the three arrows that protruded from her own body; one in her shoulder, one in her lower chest and one just beside her left breast.

 _'That one must have pierced my heart,'_ she thought as she vomited up more blood. _'I am dying...'_

She felt herself growing weaker and becoming light-headed. In her mind, she began seeing flashes of events from last few hours of her life.

_'Returning from the Wilds...Duncan alludes to the dangers of the Joining...he and Alistair confer privately, occasionally glancing at her..._

_The Joining...drinking the darkspawn blood...Daveth gasps and collapses to the ground, dead...Ser Jory refuses...he screams as Duncan's silverite blade runs him through, ending his life...the words spoken by Alistair,_

>  _"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day we shall join you."_

_She drinks the blood...agony...visions of a dragon...the distance sound of a beautiful song..._

_Teyrn Loghain explains his strategy...The King's Army will draw the darkspawn into the valley...the signal beacon on the Tower of Ishal is lit...The Teyrn's Army charges to flank...King Cailan sends her and Alistair to the light the beacon..._

_Darkspawn everywhere...they struggle to climb the tower...at the top; an ogre...the beacon is lit...the door crashes open...darkspawn arrows fly...'_

The light from the beacon recedes and she feels herself grow cold. As Parean succumbs to the darkness, she sends a silent prayer to The Maker that they were not too late.


	6. Sometimes Legends are True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_The Battle at Ostagar ends..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _We now enter my virtual world...There is a small *spoiler* in this chapter for anyone who hasn't read "The Stolen Throne"...you have been warned..._

**Chapter 6  Sometimes Legends are True**

 

_'Come on...where's the damn signal?'_

Loghain glared through the driving rain at the Tower of Ishal, willing the beacon to light. From his vantage point on the crest of the valley, he watched as the massive horde of darkspawn surged toward Cailan's army. Their window of opportunity was closing rapidly.

"Cauthrien! Prepare the troops!" His command was barely perceptible over the force of the storm and the noise of the battle below. He did not doubt, however, that she'd heard it. Cauthrien was a skilled warrior and an excellent second who knew, almost instinctively, what he would do before he commanded it.

"Yes, my lord!" Cauthrien's reply came immediately. As she turned to carry out his order, he thought about how the gangly young girl he'd squired so many years ago had blossomed into, arguably, the best solider and leader in the Gwaren Army. He smiled inwardly at how upset Anora would become over the frequency of his training sessions with Cauthrien.

 _'Father, it's inappropriate for the Teyrn to take such interest in a squire. Especially one who is female. She should train with the rest of the soldiers.'_ Of course, Loghain mused, Anora's position had more to do with Cauthrien besting her at swordplay with the skills Loghain had taught them both, than her concern over impropriety. He had always believed that her forte, much like his own, was with the bow.

 _'She only wishes to train often so that she may be near you.'_ Anora always has to add a dramatic touch to a losing argument.

"Anora" he breathed softly. His thoughts drifted to their conversation before he and Cailan left for Ostagar. She refused to let him leave without his word that he would protect Cailan.

 _'So, your concern is for Cailan and none for me?'_ he teased, looking appropriately wounded at the thought.

Anora wrapped her arms around her father's neck, squeezing him tightly, and he hugged her in return. She placed a peck on his cheek and drew back from him, smiling affectionately. _'I know that you will always return.'_

It warmed Loghain's heart that his daughter had such confidence in him, so much so that he promised to do everything in his power to bring her husband safely back to her.

A bright flash in the sky followed by a crack of thunder brought him back to reality. The tower still showed no signal and as he assessed the status of the battle his heart sank. Their sole moment to strike was passed. Scouting reports had shown that the horde was divided into two groups. Had his army been able to flank the first group as planned, they would have been able to defeat a large portion of the horde then turn their combined forces upon the second force. No chance for the plan's success remained as the two darkspawn factions had now converged in the valley and were decimating the king's forces. The battle was lost.

"My lord! The signal!" Cauthrien pointed toward the Tower of Ishal. A brilliant flame glowed fiercely from the top of the tower. 

_'Finally...the signal comes,'_ he thought, _'but too late. Were we to attack now, there would be no one left to re-group and defend Ferelden.'_ His blood ran cold at the thought of what he must do.

"Sound...the retreat." The words sounded foreign to Loghain's ears; as if they were being spoken by someone else.

Cauthrien, clearly shocked by his command, retorted, "My lord, what of the king?"

Cailan...he had promised Anora he would protect Cailan...

A voice wafted through Loghain's mind...

_'Had you been there instead of saving me, perhaps you could have gotten them out. I am responsible for them, we are responsible, and I would rather die than have their blood on my hands.'_

Maric...Maric had said that after Loghain and Rowan saved him, leaving the rebel army to die at West Hill. He made them promise to let him die if it meant saving the soldiers.

Loghain grabbed Cauthrien's wrist, "Do as I command!" he growled.

Disbelief clouding her face, she pulled free from him grasp. "Move out!" She gestured for the men to leave the field.

He stared at the tower, burning brightly despite the storm. In that moment, his decision was made. He offered up a silent prayer to The Maker that Anora would forgive him one day.

_'I'm sorry Maric...I was unwilling to hold you to that promise and, Maker save me, neither will I hold your son to it.'_

With that, he drew his sword and shield, let out a fierce war cry and charged down the hill. He knew there was no hope of reaching Cailan before he, himself, fell but he had to try; for Anora, for Maric.

Loghain scanned the valley looking for Cailan. It seemed that The Maker smiled upon him as he found Cailan fighting a small group of darkspawn just a short distance away, the Grey Warden Duncan by his side. He focused his efforts on the darkspawn immediately between him and Cailan, attempting to get to the boy as quickly as possible. 

When he entered the thick of the battle, he was blindsided by an emissary using a spell to knock back its surrounding enemies. He felt himself flying through the air and crashing into the ground, knocking his sword from his hand. Momentarily dazed, he tried to stand and gasped, grabbing his right side; the familiar sensation of broken ribs entering his mind. Looking up he saw darkspawn heading toward him, weapons held high. Prepared to meet The Maker, Loghain stared them down, his icy blue eyes hard with defiance. In the next moments, several of the approaching darkspawn had been felled with arrows, the rest neatly halved by the masterful swing of a greatsword. He looked up to see Cauthrien offering her hand to him; his army behind her.

"What are you doing, Cauthrien? I gave you a direct order to leave!" Loghain hissed through the pain in his side.

"My lord, I am sworn to protect you. You have no chance of saving the king alone, and I would gladly sacrifice myself to see you and the king safe." Cauthrien bowed her head slightly.

Shouts of "For Teyrn Loghain!" and "For King Cailan!" arose through the ranks of his soldiers. Loghain felt humbled by the actions of his men. His pride in them swelled and he felt rejuvenated. He would see them through this, or die trying.

"Onward! For Ferelden!" Loghain's war cry raised a deafening cheer through his army and, together, they pressed forward through sea of darkspawn.

His sword forgotten, Loghain used his shield to bash through the darkspawn lines, pummeling the enemy as his worked his way toward Cailan. As he drew near, he heard a familiar voice call to him.

"Loghain! I knew you'd come!" Cailan's excited voice and brilliant smile caught Loghain off-guard; his hesitation causing his warning to come a moment too late.

"Cailan! Behind you!" Loghain shouted, pointing at the enormous ogre reaching down to grasp him. Cailan turned around just in time to see the huge hand clamp around his waist. He was lifted into the air, helpless. The ogre growled in his face, spittle spraying over him.

There was no chance for Loghain to reach Cailan before the ogre crushed him. He fervently looked about him and found a bow and quiver. Grabbing them, he took aim on the ogre. "Maker, guide my hand." He let the arrow loose, watching it hit the mark; dead-center in the ogre's left eye. He let loose two more arrows, each hitting their intended targets; one blinding the right eye and the other buried to the fletching in the ogre's throat.

The ogre roared in pain as its body was pierced, staggering backward and releasing Cailan. Loghain, already running toward the ogre, picked up a sword that was lodged in a slain darkspawn body, ready to continue the attack. The ogre raised its fist, intent on smashing Cailan where he lay but was struck by Duncan's silverite sword and dagger as he leaped onto the beast. Twisting and turning the blades in the ogre's flesh, Duncan withdrew and impaled the ogre over and over until it finally collapsed to the ground. Taking his sword, Duncan plunged it to the hilt into the ogre's skull. The cracking of bone and tearing of the monster's brain tissue could be heard as Duncan savagely twisted the blade.

Those soldiers that remained ran forward to encircle Loghain and Cailan. They held off the darkspawn while Loghain helped Cailan to his feet. He was injured but not gravely and, with Loghain and Cauthrien's support, was able to escape with the armies out of the valley.

The armies moved quickly from Ostagar, trying to stay ahead of the darkspawn horde. When they arrived in Lothering, the wounded were properly attended to and their plans were made. Loghain and a small contingent of men would travel to Redcliffe to confer with Arl Eamon and re-group. Cauthrien would lead the rest of the army to Denerim and inform the Queen of the events at Ostagar. Cailan needed an experienced healer and, given that both Ostagar and The Circle of Magi were near Redcliffe, it was more reasonable to take him there than risk the long journey to Denerim. 

Cailan spent the majority of the trip to Redcliffe drifting in and out of consciousness. Loghain regretted that the Warden Mage Parean perished at Ostagar as her healing abilities would be most welcome. He had sent a few soldiers to quickly search for Alistair and Parean in the tower but they found no sign of them. The tower itself was overrun with darkspawn; no one inside could have possibly survived.

Arl Eamon greeted them on their arrival at Redcliffe Castle. "Loghain." He reached out to shake Loghain's hand. "It's good to see you, my friend. Tell me, how fairs Cailan?"

"As well as to be expected after a losing battle." Loghain's terse reply went unnoticed by the Arl. "He is in grave need of healing, Eamon."

"The messenger you sent informed me. The Circle's healer arrived not long ago and is waiting in Cailan's chambers." Arl Eamon instructed his servants to take the king to his room.

Loghain retired to his own room to rest. The large claw-foot tub in the adjoining room was invitingly urging him to soak his battered and bruised body. He called for the servants to fetch hot water as he began to remove his armor. Several female servants, carrying large buckets of hot water, offered to aid him with his bathing as they filled the tub. Their incessant giggling as well as their quiet whispers and stares were becoming maddening. 

"Maker's breath!" he swore under his breath. With an exasperated sigh he waved the servants out. "There is no need, ladies. I am not so old that I cannot bathe on my own." As the servants exited the room, Loghain turned and removed the rest of his armor until he was down to his smallclothes. Hearing the door shut, he walked into the main room to retrieve his grooming supplies when he noticed that one servant remained. She was a beautiful young woman with midnight black hair and exquisite emerald green eyes. Her ample bosom threatened to burst through her excessively taut garments. Loghain grabbed the coverlet from his bed and wrapped it around his waist.

"Why do you remain? Did I not ask you all to leave me?" Loghain's frustration was palpable.

"Yes, my lord. You said that you did not require any aid in your bathing. I am here to meet any... _other_...needs you may desire." Her deliberate speech and sultry look made her meaning quite clear. She began to move suggestively toward him.

"For the love of The Maker! I'm old enough to be your father, child!" Perhaps it was his physical exhaustion coupled with his current state of undress that made Loghain feel quite vulnerable and exposed.

"That matters not, my lord. I am quite skilled in the performance of my duties and take great pleasure in them. And to serve The Hero of River Dane would be an honor indeed." Her hand seductively caressed his discarded armor as she continued her approach.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you are very talented and your...eagerness...to please is obvious, even commendable. I, however, am not in need of such services at present. Now, if you will excuse me, I must make myself presentable before going to see the King." Loghain sighed inwardly, _'Yes, because awkward humor will solve this problem.'_

"Of course, my lord." She bowed graciously. "I am here to please. If you find that you do require anything of me, my name is Elaan and I am at your service." Elaan brushed a finger down his cheek and smiled before she turned and left the room.

Loghain hurried across the room to lock the door. With a heavy sigh, he entered the bathing room and finished undressing. As he slipped down into the now tepid water, he allowed his mind to wander, enjoying the first bit of silence and solitude he'd had in a long while.

Loghain waited outside of Cailan's room until the healer finished her work. Brushing off the healer's concerns about his own broken ribs, Loghain entered the room as the healer left, closing the door behind her. 

"How do you feel Cailan?" Loghain inquired as he sat in the chair beside Cailan's bed.

"I'm fine. The healer, I believe her name is Wynne, says that I should be completely restored in a few days time." Cailan attempted to get out of bed but Loghain stopped him.

"You must rest Cailan. Your body needs time to recuperate. Had you not insisted on entering the fight, you would not be in such a state." Cailan brushed his rebuke aside.

"I told you that nothing would happen to me, so long as you were there. You saw us through the worst of it just as you did for my father." 

"I fear your fantasies will become even more intolerable now." Loghain's irritation with the boy was growing; he was determined that there would be no repeat performance for Cailan.

"I must go and meet with Eamon to discuss our next moves. You get some rest and I will return in the morning. Anora should be here by then and I can inform both of you about the results of our discussion. " Loghain turned to leave.

"No. I will hear the discussion myself. I will not be left out of a meeting about the future of Ferelden." Cailan sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Cailan," Loghain's patience was, once again, at an end, "do not force me to restrain you."

"Do not forget who is King," Cailan seethed, "I will do as I wish. You cannot restrain me as though I were a child."

Cailan never saw Loghain's strike. With one quick blow, Cailan was unconscious. Loghain placed his legs back on the bed and pulled the bedclothes over him. As he exited the room, he spoke softly to the servant coming to attend to the king, "The king is asleep. See that he is not disturbed."

Oddly enough, Loghain felt much better, his frustration relieved. He smiled slyly as he walked through the castle and entered the arl's study.


	7. Things Aren't Always As They Seem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_The Wardens get a new companion and make their way to Redcliffe..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The gang gets back together and our star-struck, fangirling mage has a startling revelation..._

**Chapter 7  Things Aren't Always As They Seem**

 

She feels no fear; here she is brave, strong, confident. Anything foolish enough to attack her is quickly and swiftly slain with a brand of courage unknown to her in the real world.

This is The Fade...and here, she does not cower.

First Enchanter Irving would tell her that she cannot hide forever. She must learn to conquer the demons of the real world as well as those in The Fade. _She_ only wishes to remain here, where no one can hurt her and she can hurt no one else.

Warmth. The touch of another. She feels her body move from an outside force. Her senses are returning; she hears the crackling fire, smells the hearty scent of stew in the distance. Her eyes begin to flutter open and she is blinded by the brightness of the small room. Slowly, she sits up.

"I see you are awake," a distant voice calls, "tis good to see your eyes finally open."

Parean shields her eyes to allow them time to adjust. Sitting next to her on the bed is Morrigan; the girl from the Wilds. It appears that she has just finished dressing Parean's wounds.

"W...where...am...I?" Parean's throat was dry and her voice came out thick and husky. Morrigan walked to the table and retrieved a small cup.

"Here, drink this slowly. You have been unconscious for several hours." She returned to her place on the edge of the bed. "Have you any memory of what occurred?"

"The King sent Alistair and I to light the beacon....where is Alistair? Is he...?" her voice choked in her throat. He had risked his life to protect her. He stepped in front of her, taking the brunt of the first arrow volley. 

_'Why? Why would he do that?'_ her mind was reeling with conflicting emotions. _'He is a Templar, yet he tried to save me...just like Ser Cullen...perhaps not all Templars are cruel...'_

_'If he perished because of me...Oh Maker, no....I can bear no more blood on my hands...'_

"He lives. Mother rescued both of you. Twas no easy task as the darkspawn filled the tower." Morrigan gestured toward the door. "He waits for you outside."

"Were his injuries severe?" Parean slowly set her feet on the floor and carefully began to stand.

"Yes, as were yours but twas nothing that Mother could not heal. There is little she cannot do, even conquering death, when she is of a mind." Parean noticed that Morrigan's tone conveyed both pride and jealousy.

"Thank you for everything." Parean's genuine gratitude appeared to take Morrigan by surprise.

"You...are most...welcome." Morrigan's pale skin flushed as she tried to regain control.

Parean stepped out into the warmth of the morning sun. Alistair was standing by the glade with Morrigan's mother, staring off into the distance. As she approached, the old woman turned, "Ah! At last you wake. I was beginning to think that you would sleep forever, child."

Alistair looked at her with utter disbelief in his eyes. He started to approach her then stopped short. He didn't want to frighten her again. He relaxed as a slight smile crossed her face. "I thought you were dead. You have no idea how happy I am to have been wrong." He smiled warmly at her.

 _'Are you suddenly going to trust him as well?'_ She sighed softly. Her mind could be quite aggravating at times. Perhaps she had been wrong about this Templar; she would remain cautious but with a more...open...mind.

Parean bowed her head slightly to the old woman, "Thank you for everything...um...I'm sorry but I don't know your name."

"Names are pretty but useless," the old woman scoffed, "The Chasind call me 'Flemeth', that will do."

Parean stood gawking, "Flemeth," she breathed. "I've heard tales of Flemeth but they were written centuries ago. Surely you are her descendant, mayhap, or are you truly...the Witch of the Wilds?"

Flemeth roared with a hearty guffaw. "Believe what you will, child, for in the grand scheme of things, it matters little."

Alistair cleared his throat nervously, "Sorry to interrupt but can you tell us what happened in the battle?"

"Your signal, it seems, came too late. The darkspawn won your battle. The majority of your armies were slaughtered but some survived. A large group of the survivors are heading for Denerim while the rest travel to Redcliffe. I believe your King is among those journeying to Redcliffe." Flemeth's tone was solemn.

"Then we must go to Redcliffe. If Cailan is there, I'm sure that Duncan would have traveled with him." The decision made, Alistair bowed to Flemeth, "Thank you, my lady, for all that you've done for us."

Flemeth chuckled, "My, my...such a grand gesture. Were I younger, I might have cause to blush. As it is, I can offer you one last bit of aid."

As if on cue, Morrigan appeared from the hut, a satchel in her hand. "Shall we, Grey Wardens?" She looked at them expectantly. Alistair and Parean exchanged confused glances.

"You're sending Morrigan with us?" Alistair was hesitant to go along with the idea. He didn't trust her and felt that no good would come of her presence.

"You will need her magic to help you defeat the Blight," Flemeth turned to stare at Parean, a distant look in her eye, "and she has knowledge that will aid you greatly, child."

Parean was transfixed. As she stared into the old woman's eyes, she sensed the enormous power at Flemeth's command. She could do anything, be anything, and yet it was controlled, almost dormant within her. Flemeth did not fear her magic; she used it as she saw a need. Parean longed to master this level of restraint. She felt a surge of confidence, almost as if Flemeth's strength was her own.

"We should go. Redcliffe is a few days journey, and we should re-join Duncan as soon as we are able. Thank you for all you've done for us. Morrigan will come to no harm with us, I swear it." Parean and Morrigan turned and began down the path as Alistair's protest died on his lips.

Their journey was long and arduous, complicated by the small groups of darkspawn they would occasionally come upon. After one such battle, they discovered a very useful skill that Morrigan possessed. She had the ability to shapeshift into various animal forms. When Parean and Alistair would sense darkspawn, she would take to the air and scout their location and numbers.

"Ahead there are travelers that have been attacked by darkspawn. A woman with a handful of men, all on horseback. They are holding their ground, though barely. Truth be told, tis the woman who is most fearsome with her bow; more so than any of the men with their blades." Morrigan smugly glanced at Alistair.

"Come, we must hurry to catch up with them and lend assistance." Alistair ran off in the direction indicated by Morrigan. Parean was amazed at how he was able to run so effortlessly in his heavy armor. Morrigan took to flight and Parean sprinted after Alistair.

When they reached the fight they were shocked to see that it was all but over. The men were finishing off the few remaining darkspawn that came too close to the woman. Sitting atop her horse, the woman expertly felled a darkspawn archer several hundred yards away, placing her arrow perfectly between its eyes. The woman noticed their group and bade them to approach. As they neared, Parean noticed that the woman was young and beautiful with an air about her that she had not seen before. She was dressed in leather armor that looked to have been fashioned for a man and then altered to fit a smaller frame. Her golden hair was long and flowing, held back by a ribbon tied at the base of her head. Piercing deep blue eyes stared back at her with a hardness and determination that seemed familiar to Parean. 

"Stay back! You will come no closer!" The men surrounded them, swords drawn. The woman simply waved them off.

"Stand aside and allow them to approach." The woman spoke with authority and the men obeyed without question.

 _'Who is this woman?'_ Parean looked curiously at the young woman. "We thought you may be in need of assistance but it seems you have things well in hand."

"Thank you for your offer all the same," the woman smiled appreciatively, "had the fight lasted much longer, we would have been grateful for your intervention indeed. Might I ask who you are and where you are traveling to?"

"I am Parean and this is Alistair. We are Grey Wardens traveling from Ostagar to Redcliffe. Our companion here is Morrigan."

"Grey Wardens! Then some did survive the battle. I am Anora, Queen of Ferelden. Thank the Maker that we crossed paths. Our journey will be less hazardous with you in our company. Come; let us continue on to Redcliffe." Anora reached out her hand to Parean, offering to share her horse. She accepted gladly and, with the aid of a guard, swung up to sit behind Anora. Alistair was given one of the extra horses to ride. Morrigan refused to ride and instead, startling their new companions, transformed into a wolf and ran down the road.

They arrived at Redcliffe Castle the next morning. As they crossed the bridge leading to the castle, the immense metal gate slowly began to rise, granting them entrance. They passed through the large stone archway and came to rest at the foot of a long set of stone stairs leading to the castle's iron doors. 

Two men were descending the stairs. Parean recognized Teyrn Loghain but did not know who accompanied him. He was an older man with deep set lines on his face and dark circles under his eyes. His short reddish brown hair was perfectly coiffed and he was dressed in a noble's finery. Parean assumed he must be the lord of the manor.

Parean noticed the Teyrn as well. He wore the same armor as when they first met, the armor he took from the Chevalier Commander at the Battle of River Dane in 8:99 Blessed. He became the "Hero of River Dane" that day and a legend to the commoners when King Maric raised him from commoner to nobility by making him Teyrn of Gwaren. He, like the noble beside him, was an older man but did not have the same haggard look. Though he wore a dour expression, his features were ruggedly handsome. His face carried the scars of his many battles, smaller ones across the bridge of his nose and down his lower lip and a large, jagged scar running from just above his left eyebrow down to his chin. The two narrow braids, one on either side of his head, were the only part of his thick black mane the swayed gently as his walked. A pair of icy blue eyes pierced through the air, hard and determined....just like...

"Father!" Anora leaped from her horse and ran toward the Teyrn. Parean saw Teyrn Loghain's countenance soften, his eyes coming to life at the sight of his daughter. A slow smile touched his lips as his held out his arms to embrace her. She threw her arms around him and he could not stifle the grunt or the wince of pain.

"Father, you're hurt. Forgive me...had I known" Anora stepped back as Loghain caught his breath.

"It's nothing, Anora. Do not concern yourself." He gently held her chin in his hand and lightly kissed her forehead. The queen appeared angered by the gesture.

"Stop treating me like a child, father. I know people believe you indestructible, but you are not as young as you used to be." Anora stared at her father defiantly.

"Indeed, I'd almost forgotten that. Thank you for the reminder." Anora's indignant expression amused Loghain and his smile widened. He started to chuckle, irritating his broken ribs and throwing him into a coughing fit as he grabbed his side and grimaced in pain. "Maker's breath," he gasped, "I really shouldn't do that."

Anora glared at him, incensed, "Let that be a lesson to you. Someone fetch the healer for my father." She looked around as the servants helplessly shrugged back at her.

"The healer is gone and I am fine, Anora." Loghain straightened himself as if to prove that his condition was trivial.

"Parean!" The queen motioned for her. "You are a healer. Come attend to my father."

Loghain, surprised to hear the warden mage's name, peered at the woman still seated on Anora's horse. Yes, it was her and Alistair as well; they _had_ survived after all. His initial assessment of her had, obviously, been in error.

Parean felt a very familiar lump in her throat. _'He is staring at me...why does he stare so?'_ She had managed to overcome her awkwardness with Morrigan after spending several days traveling with her, but the Teyrn...he was...different.

"I...b..but...I," she stammered. "If h...he does not wish...I..." 

_'Andraste's flaming sword! You are a healer and he is in need of healing! Focus on that!'_

"I do not care whether he wishes it or not," Anora decreed, "he is obviously in need of aid and you are the only healer present."

"Enough Anora!" Loghain's voice boomed through the courtyard. His jovial mood beginning to darken with his irritation, his dour expression returned. "I am still your father, young lady, and I will hear no more about this from you." He turned his full gaze on her with a look that would cause grown men to soil themselves. She merely glared back at him.

"At this moment you are the General of the Royal Army and I your Queen, and you will do as you are commanded!" The air was charged with the friction darting between the two sets of stony blue eyes. Neither one was willing to back down.

"Is that a direct order from The Queen to her Commander?" Loghain's words dripped with acid. His eyes narrowed as he searched his daughter's face for any sign of hesitation.

"Since you refuse to listen to reason, then yes, it is General Loghain. You will allow the healer to properly attend to your injury." Anora showed no sign of relenting and Loghain, ever the loyal soldier, could not refuse.

"As you command, your majesty." Loghain sneered as he mockingly bowed before his daughter.

"Y...your injury is severe, m...my grace." Parean quietly interjected, her hands glowing a bright blue and her eyes closed as her mind assessed him internally. 

Both Loghain and Anora turned with a start to see Parean standing next to them. Neither had heard her approach, nor did they notice as she discreetly examined him.

Anora's indignation instantly turned to a look of concern. "Can you repair the damage?"

"Yes, your majesty, but it will require some time." Parean's face flushed. Anora suspected that there was something the healer was not saying.

"It is settled then. We will retire to my father's room so that you may begin your treatment." She turned to the noble man standing to her side, "Arl Eamon, will you see to the needs of my companions?"

"Of course, your highness." Arl Eamon bowed slightly then called for the stable hands to care for the horses.

Parean noticed a peculiar rapport between the Arl and Alistair. _'Apparently they are already acquainted with each other, but how?'_ Parean had no time to consider the matter further as Loghain and Anora had already reached the top of the stairs. She hurried up the stairs to meet them.

Parean's legs felt like lead weights. She felt uncomfortable in a man's private chambers and the fact that these were the Teyrn's quarters made her feel even more ill-at-ease. 

"We can talk freely here. Tell me the extent of his injury." Anora waited anxiously for Parean's reply as Loghain eased down into the large, wing-backed chair in the corner of the room. He slumped down, arms crossed, face long and sullen. Was he actually sulking?

He glared sidelong at Anora. "Do not speak of me as though I were a child." She ignored him entirely and his expression became even more gloomy.

"He has," she turned to face the brooding man, "forgive me, my lord. You have two cracked and one broken rib. Normally not a major concern, especially for one such as you..." her voice gave out.

"Such as me? I would think this a major concern for a decrepit old man who, apparently, is incapable of tending to himself." He spat the words icily in Anora's direction. "Perhaps, Anora, you feel I should take to my bed with the coverlets up to my chin? Maybe the servants would be kind enough to bring me easily digestible foods." He turned away before either woman could see the display of his wounded pride on his face.

"Go on, Parean." Anora disregarded Loghain's outburst and returned to the matter at hand.

"I'm...sorry, my lord. I meant no disrespect. I noticed that you have had many such injuries, all of which have healed perfectly." Parean tried sound as reassuring as possible. "This particular injury differs in that the broken rib juts out. If it is not healed properly, you risk puncturing your lung."

"What do you need him to do?" Anora steeled herself for yet another battle with her father. She had a feeling he would not welcome Parean's answer.

"I need to concentrate my healing magic as close to the area as possible," her face warmed and turned a deep shade of crimson, "which m...means you will...need to...re..remove your armor." She felt the darkness creep up on her. She forced herself to focus on her task.

 _'Oh Maker...no amount of mind control will help me through this...'_ She suppressed a nervous laugh.

Without a word, Loghain rose from his chair and began unbuckling the straps on his armor. He brushed aside Anora's attempt to aid him, "I am still capable of removing my own armor." He walked toward an adjacent room, grabbing a shirt and breeches on his way. He returned a few moments later, placing his armor on its stand and sitting back down in his chair.

_'Breathe slowly, girl...calm...this is no time for your nerves to get the better of you...'_

"Well," he grumbled, "let's just get on with this. I have other matters to attend to."

She felt her throat constrict and the blood pounding in her ears. _'How am I going to say this and not sound like a babbling fool?'_ She took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

"Actually, my lord, I need you to....remove your shirt as well...and...lie down." The look on the Teyrn's face was beyond description. Parean prayed that The Maker would let her disappear. It took every ounce of her strength to keep from bolting out of the room.

"Is that a joke?" He looked at her, uncertain whether or not to believe what she just said. 

"No, your grace. I must have...sight...of where I need to focus my magic. While I can use my mind to 'see' inside...your...b...body, it is comparable to feeling around in the dark. I need to take visual clues as well as using my mind." She hoped he would make her death quick and painless.

He was at a loss for words. As he considered his course of action, a stifled snicker from across the room drew his attention.

"I'm glad you find this to your amusement, Anora," he spat bitterly, "but, surely you cannot ask this of me. Have I not suffered enough humiliation today?"

Anora attempted to compose herself. "I did not ask it of you, your healer did and I believe you should do as she instructs." She smiled at him with genuine sympathy.

Loghain's heart melted at his daughter's expression. "Another command from the Queen?" His words were not harsh but tinged with humor.

She came to her father's side, kissed the top of his head and tugged his braids. "No...just a concerned request from a very worried daughter to the exceedingly stubborn father she adores."

"As you wish, my dear." He stood from his chair and gingerly removed his shirt. He turned and walked toward the bed, when a mischievous smile, unseen by the two women, crossed his lips. "After all, it has been many years since I was molested by a beautiful young woman."

" **FATHER!** " Anora's face turned several shades of red; her embarrassment evident in her horrified expression. Satisfied that he had thoroughly mortified his daughter, he lay down on the bed and waited for Parean to begin.

She was immobilized; rooted to that very spot. What had just happened? Was this a dream? No, it couldn't be as she was not in The Fade. Did she hear correctly? Had he just called her 'beautiful'?

 _'Do not concern yourself with it. He was merely jesting with the Queen.'_ Her mind brought with it a sense of reality, and as she tried to remember to breathe, she realized that the Teyrn was speaking to her.

"...lying here completely exposed. Are you going to come closer to attend to me or was this just a ploy to have me stripped to my breeches." Loghain couldn't help but laugh to himself at Anora's pained look.

"Father, really. Your remarks are entirely inappropriate." She headed for the chamber door. "Now, if you are quite finished humiliating me with your childish humor, I will leave you to your healer while I look in on Cailan." Without waiting for his response, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Parean didn't know what to think. He laid there, a look of triumphant pleasure on his face. As she approached, he chuckled softly.

"That would have been so much more satisfying had I been able to laugh without pain." He clearly felt that he had bested his daughter and his jovial mood returned.

She set about examining his chest. Despite being in his 50's, he was in excellent physical condition and possessed the body of a much younger man. His torso was peppered with scars, some with the harsh, irregular edges of slash wounds and others were straight, thin lines marking where he had been stabbed. On his right side, several of the bruises he received in the battle were already healing. One in particular seemed rather fresh so Parean closed her eyes and concentrated her mind on that spot. In her mind she 'saw' that this was where the offending rib was located. 

"Are you ready, my lord?" Her eyes remained closed as she quietly prepared to begin.

"Yes...I am ready when you are," came his reply.

She opened her eyes and slowly raised her hands to his side. Holding them a hairsbreadth above his skin, she could feel the warmth of his body on her palms. She noticed that small bumps began to rise on his skin, much like the goose-flesh one gets when cold or experiencing an intense emotion. He gasped suddenly, his breath coming slightly quicker and his pulse pounding in his neck. Parean stood there, entranced, watching as his bronze, taut skin slid effortlessly over his undulating muscles, glistening from small beads of sweat. The triangular smattering of black hair on his chest rising and lowering with his breath, leading down his chiseled, washboard-like stomach into a single line that disappeared beneath his breeches...

Parean's heart leapt into her throat. She pulled her hands away quickly, raising them to her cheeks in an attempt to hide her blush. "Is there s...something wrong, your grace?"

"No...no, I was just...unprepared...for how close you needed to be. Please, continue when you are ready." Loghain closed his eyes and forced his body to relax.

Parean closed her eyes and took a moment to calm her own heartbeat. As she slowly regained her senses, she was struck with an epiphany. Her eyes opened and she looked at the man lying before her in a much different light. She had spent the last few months building a rather large pedestal for him. He had become more than human to her; an unobtainable ideal, larger than life, unreachable, distant and untouched by the human failings of mere mortals. She realized that she had become obsessed with a legend.

_'But he is human. He is merely a man who possessed the same traits, the same emotions as any other mortal in Thedas. He is a reluctant hero who bears the weight of a country full of hero-worshippers who expect miracles of him. Maybe his seemingly taciturn and dour persona is caused by a belief that he cannot live up to his legend. He is a brave and courageous man, but also so much more. I have seen his capacity to feel love and affection, anger, pride, joy and even awkwardness and embarrassment. He does not deserve to be objectified but respected as a good and decent man who has done what he must to protect the country he loves.'_

Her heart warmed at this new perspective on the man she once idolized. She no longer felt anxious when near him, like she was unworthy to be in his presence. He was a man worth knowing and she hoped that there would be an opportunity to get to know him better.

"I am ready to began, my lord. You will feel a slight tingling as I temporarily numb your nerves so my manipulation of your rib will cause you no discomfort." Parean placed her hand over his body. They began to glow and she closed her eyes to focus on her task.

"Well done. I must say it's about time." Loghain snickered quietly.

Shocked, Parean opened her eyes and stared at him, "My lord?"

"I do believe that is the first time you've spoken to me without stuttering." It was obvious to Parean that he was quite amused by the change in her behavior.

Parean smiled. She mockingly let out a heavy sigh, "Oh my lord, I wish you had not said that for now I fear you have cursed me to once again become a babbling dolt."

Loghain could not suppress a hearty laugh, leading to yet another coughing spasm. "For the love of the Maker, don't do that until _after_ you heal me." He closed his eyes and thought to himself, _'Yes indeed...perhaps there is hope for her after all.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Whew! That was a long one, but I really wanted to show that Parean is trying to get over herself...and lighten the mood alittle since things are about to get pretty dark..._


	8. A Bitter Pill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Distressing news and an unexpected turn of fate..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Spending some time in Redcliffe never seems to be a good idea, so let's wrap it up and head out..._ **

**Chapter 8  A Bitter Pill**

Alistair and Parean paced nervously about the hall outside of the Arl's study. It seemed like hours since she had finished healing Loghain and he rushed off to meet with Arl Eamon and the King and Queen. Parean, not knowing where else to go, hurried after him in hopes that she might run into Alistair. He was standing outside the room with the Arl and yet another newcomer. As she approached them she became aware that this stranger was also a Grey Warden as she sensed the taint within him.

"Parean," Alistair called, waving her over, "This is Senior Warden Riordan of Jader. He was sent here by the Orlesian Grey Wardens."

Loghain's face was stone, "Eamon! As if it isn't enough of a risk to allow a soldier from Orlais into Ferelden, you welcome him into your castle as if he were some visiting dignitary? Are you certain that he is not a spy for the Empress? He may be a Chevalier in disguise." He glared at Riordan with obvious disgust.

"I assure you Teyrn Loghain, that my presence here is merely to assess the darkspawn situation and determine if more wardens are needed." Riordan's thick Orlesian accent only served to put Loghain more on edge.

"Come, gentleman. Let us join the King and Queen in the study so that we may discuss our next moves." Arl Eamon gestured toward the room and strategically placed himself between Riordan and Loghain.

After the doors closed, Parean looked curiously at Alistair. "I noticed that you and the Arl are acquainted. Might I ask how?"

"Now really isn't the best time to talk about it. Ask me again later, after we've left the castle." Alistair looked around cautiously, as if he were concerned about being overheard.

"Have you spoken to Duncan yet? Why was he not in the room with everyone else?" Parean felt a sense of shame that she had not inquired earlier on Duncan's whereabouts.

"No I haven't. Oddly enough, I can't seem to find him anywhere in the castle either. Perhaps he went to Denerim with the armies instead, though that seems unlikely." His look of concern made her anxious.

 _'Why wouldn't he be here, with the King? If he had gone to Denerim, would he not leave some message or instructions for them? Unless he thought them dead; killed in the tower.'_ Her mind ran through the possibilities but came up with no satisfying answers.

"You can't be serious!" Loghain's voice, even muffled through the heavy wooden doors, permeated the hall drawing questioning looks from them both. Straining with all their might, they leaned against the door trying to hear what was being said. All they heard were barely audible voices and the shuffling sounds of someone pacing around the room.

"I want no part of this!" Again, Loghain's deep, thundering voice boomed through the door. All went quiet until a faint, high-pitched voice could be heard in what sounded like a soothing tone. 

"The Queen must be trying to convince the Teyrn of something. I believe he has lost this battle." Parean smiled at Alistair who was choking back a snicker.

Heavy footsteps began to approach the door and the two quickly jumped back. The doors flew open, slamming against the walls with a deafening **_'crash'_**. The Teyrn stormed wordlessly passed them down the hall and into his room, his blue eyes dark and menacing; his expression hard and wrathful. 

"Holy Maker! What happened in there?" Alistair's question hung in the air for a few moments before Riordan motioned for the junior wardens to join him in the study. "Come, we have Grey Warden business to discuss."

" **NO!** It cannot be! I refuse to believe that!" 

Alistair shot from his chair and stormed around the room, a flood of emotion crossing his face. He stopped in front of a large bookcase. Through hazy eyes he saw several books recounting the tales of the four previous Blights. He knew the tales well; stories of the Grey Wardens swooping in on their Griffins to end the Blights and save the world. Solemnly, he ran his hand over the bindings then lowered his head, resting it on his hand. 

"It...can't...be" he choked.

Parean was stunned; her body and mind felt numb. Riordan's revelation was almost more than she could comprehend, as though she were floating above it all, watching from the outside. She watched Alistair move about the room, unable to speak, not knowing what to say to console him, or herself.

 _'Maker's mercy....we were too late...had we not been late with the signal, the Teyrn's men would have been able to attack as planned and perhaps...'_ Parean's blood ran cold and her heart felt as if it would stop beating.

"Have you informed them of your plan?" In her detached state, she did not recognize the voice at first. She turned her head to see the Teyrn shutting the doors.

" ** _YOU!_**... _This...is your doing!_ "

Parean looked hastily at Alistair who was now standing straight, back to them, with his fists clenched tightly. As he turned, his arm shot up to point an accusing finger at Loghain. Parean shuddered in horror at the look in his narrowed eyes; pure, maniacal hatred, directed squarely at the Teyrn.

" _You left him to die!_ Duncan helped you save Cailan and you left him behind!" Alistair's features burned bright red from his rage, tears streaming down his face. "And nowhe's dead! Dead because **_you_** could not be bothered to save him!" He had crossed the room in seconds and now stood face-to-face with Loghain.

"If it comforts you to accuse me then go on, try out all the curses and insults you know. I'll teach you some new ones if they don't suffice." Loghain stared back into Alistair's eyes; he did not back down but would not overbear him. He knew this kind of pain well, and the only way for the boy to move pass it was to let him carry on.

Alistair glared at Loghain. "Why? Why did you leave him? How could you?"

Loghain's expression softened, sympathy filled his eyes. "He's gone, son. Would knowing why or how ease the pain?"

"No...it wouldn't..." Alistair's body slumped as he walked over to the cluster of large, comfortable chairs situated around a small table and sat down.

"I know this is a difficult time, but we must get back to the matter at hand." Riordan prodded gently as he drew everyone's attention back to Loghain's question.

"Ah yes. I gather you have not, as of yet, told them of the plan." Loghain walked over to the table, pulling out the chair next to Alistair and offering it to Parean. After she was seated, he claimed the chair next to her for himself.

Riordan restlessly paced back and forth. "We must rebuild what was lost at Ostagar. Duncan was correct to have you retrieve the Grey Warden treaties and we will put them to use. Alistair, you and Parean are to go and speak with the dwarves, mages and elves to remind them of their obligations. With their aid, perhaps we can end the Blight before it truly begins. I will continue to scout out the darkspawn and attempt to determine their numbers and the location of the Archdemon."

"Since you are not accompanying us, is it to be just us two? Who will lead?" Parean had come to trust Alistair more but still was unsure of putting her complete faith in him.

"Apparently, it has been decided that I shall lead you." Loghain tried to keep his temper controlled and speak as calmly as possible. "And, since the First Warden will not hear of an outsider being privy to warden secrets, it seems I am to be made a Grey Warden."

Alistair and Parean were shocked at this turn of events. They both looked at Loghain incredulously but neither could speak.

"The Teyrn is an exceptionally skilled warrior and an experienced leader. He is loved by the commoners and his position carries weight with the nobility. All of these attributes will greatly aid in rebuilding our armies." Riordan's tone was final; the matter was settled.

Loghain could not let it end there, however. "Yes, since it seems so important that I take on this task, Riordan used the Right of Conscription when I refused. I am, as of yet, at a loss to understand how my position will aid anyone when I lose my position and title, my Teyrnir, my home, even my citizenship by becoming a Grey Warden."

Parean, in a sympathetic gesture, rested her hand on Loghain's arm, "You may also perish in the Joining."

"Oh, well...this just gets better every moment." The thin smile he attempted to show her appeared as more of a grimace.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. Riordan brought a small amount of Archdemon blood with him from Orlais, in the event that the Joining would be required, so there was only the matter of waiting for the mages to arrive with Lyrium from the Circle Tower. When they arrived at the castle, the two junior wardens and their recruit went to gather a vial of darkspawn blood. Loghain survived his Joining and became a Grey Warden.

King Cailan and Queen Anora were on their way back to Denerim. They would charge Cauthrien with readying the remaining armies as well as working on building their ranks. Riordan and Loghain spent the remainder of the time in Redcliffe going over the treaties and mapping out the best course of action. By the end of the week, Riordan was searching for more information on the darkspawn and the wardens and Morrigan were heading for their first destination; The Circle of Magi.


	9. You Can't Hide Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Parean's past catches up with her..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Just a head's up...don't get too caught up in what Parean does in this chapter...it will be explained later..._ **

**Chapter 9  You Can't Hide Forever**

The midday sun was high; a cool breeze rustling through the leaves in the woods that surrounded both sides of the road. Parean leaned back in her saddle, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. They rode three abreast; Loghain to her left and Alistair to her right. Morrigan, in her wolf form, jogged along beside. 

Alistair reached over and tapped her arm, drawing her attention to the side of the road. She saw what appeared to be an abandoned horse and wagon. After alerting Loghain, they stopped their horses to investigate. Sleeping in the back of the wagon was a young man and woman with two children. Parean gently shook the foot of the man and he woke with a start, jarring the others awake as well.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you. We saw your wagon as we were passing by and wanted to make sure that everything was alright." Parean smiled warmly.

The couple looked at each other as if they doubted her words, until they recognized Loghain. "Your grace!" They both leaped down from the cart and bowed before him.

He sighed, "You do not need to address me in that manner. I am a Grey Warden now and no longer a Teyrn. You may call me 'Warden' if you prefer."

The children, a boy of 10 and a girl of 5, crept up behind their parents and clung to them. Their mother smiled, "Don't be afraid, children. This is the Hero of River Dane." The children's eyes became wide as they looked at Loghain.

"Beg pardon, your gr...uh...I mean Warden, but you should take care if you are heading toward Lothering. The town is overrun with darkspawn. We were barely able to escape." The father patted his daughter's head as she wrapped her arms tightly around his leg.

"Are you headed to Redcliffe then?" Alistair interjected. He looked between the parents and the children, heartbroken over their plight. He noticed that the little girl was staring at him and he scrunched his face at her. She quickly hid behind her father and then slowly poked her head out, looking up at him with a partially toothless grin and a giggle.

"Yes, ser," the mother replied, "we have family in..."

Parean raised her hand and stopped the woman mid-sentence. Alistair and Loghain sensed it as well. Darkspawn were coming. Loghain told the family to get to cover and the wardens quickly prepared to fight.

The fight progressed as any of their other battles. Parean stood on one side of the road, next to the wagon, while Morrigan positioned herself on the other side. Both mages precisely targeted their spells so as not to injure their allies and Parean healed the others as needed. Loghain and Alistair charged in with sword and shield, slashing their way through the darkspawn.

As the battle drew to its close, with Alistair standing near her and her full concentration on the fight, Parean did not notice the Templars coming out of the woods behind her. Before she knew what happened, one of the Templars had wrapped his left arm around her waist, crushing her against his body and clamped his right hand over her mouth. She could not move or call out to the others. The Templar put his mouth against her ear; his warm, moist breath carrying the words that filled her with terror.

"Ser 'Violeur' sends his regards..."

 _'Oh dear Maker...no...no...NO... **NO!!!** '_ her mind shrieked, _'he...is...gone...he was...no...gone...sent away...'_ She felt the blood drain from her face. Her body went cold and her skin was immediately drenched in sweat. Her eyes, wide and panicked, searched for a way to free herself from his grasp. They landed on Loghain as he sliced through the last remaining darkspawn. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her eyes pleaded for him to turn around.

Parean saw a shadow in the periphery of her vision. The little boy had jumped out of the wagon and was running toward Loghain. He grabbed Loghain's arm and pulled furiously to get his attention, screaming about the "bad men" and pointing in Parean's direction. She caught a glimpse of the other Templars gathering around her captor. Within seconds, there was the sound of a sword being drawn and she felt the hard metal with its razor sharp edge being pressed against her throat.

"What is it?" Loghain's exasperation with the boy turned to rage as he swung around and saw Parean; a prisoner of the Templar. "Release her immediately!" He thrust his bloody and taint-covered sword toward the Templar.

Alistair spun around to face the intruders, raising his sword as well. Morrigan lifted her staff and began an incantation to bring down the attackers.

"Attack us and she dies." The Templar wielding the sword pressed it harder against Parean's throat for emphasis. Blood trickled down her neck as the edge tore into her skin. 

"This mage aided a blood mage who has escaped the Circle and she is suspected of using blood magic to bewitch a Templar causing his expulsion from the Circle. She is coming with us to face her judgment." The Templar brushed his lips against her ear again, whispering to her, "Assuming you still live after we're done with you." 

Parean's heart threatened to pound out of her chest; her eyes filled with sheer horror as they darted back and forth between Loghain and Alistair. Her body cringed and she squeezed her eyes shut tight as she felt the pressure of his thumb tracing the outline of her breast. Her reaction gave him great pleasure.

Alistair and Morrigan stared at Loghain, waiting for his command. He did not believe for an instant that she was a blood mage. He had observed the marsh witch using blood magic but never she. "Stand down!" Loghain's order shocked the others but they did as he commanded. He could do nothing else for the time being. If they attacked, Parean would be dead before the first Templar fell. His mind began calculating alternative options. The little boy, still clinging to Loghain's arm, suddenly yelled, "DADDY!"

Seemingly from out of nowhere, one of the Templar's bellowed as he was struck in the back with a heavy branch. As the boy's father raised the branch to attack again, the sword at Parean's throat was removed and used to cleave the man's head from his body. Parean heard the screams of the mother and daughter and the grotesquely moist 'thud' of the father's body falling to the ground. She caught sight of another Templar moving toward the girl and the woman. Her eyes darted back to Loghain as she heard him shout "Attack!" seizing the opportunity to rush the Templars while they were momentarily distracted.

" **NO!!** No more blood on my hands!" She screeched; her words muffled against the Templar's hand.

She had lost all control; all sensibility. Her body began violently shaking. The whites of her eyes changed to blood red as the tiny blood vessels burst. A glowing aura appeared around her and smoke billowed from her body. One of the Templars attempted to drain her mana but to no effect. The heat of her body forced the Templar to release her, his hand and arm severely burned. They tried to strike her down with their swords but the blades were melted the instant they touched her.

Loghain had never witnessed anything like the scene before him. He started to back away, pulling the boy with him. Alistair and Morrigan followed suit, unsure as to what was happening. He could feel the heat radiating from Parean, even at this distance. He saw Parean close her eyes and lower her head for a split second. Abruptly, her head snapped up and her eyes flew open. She stared directly into his eyes and, in his mind, her voice shouted one word...

" **RUN!** "

"Get to cover, now!" Loghain ordered as he grabbed the boy and the three of them raced toward the tree line. A few seconds later, they were all knocked to the ground by an enormous heat wave.

Dazed by the force of the blow, they slowly rose to their feet, trying to steady themselves and clear the confusion in their minds. As they turned around, the grisly sight that met their eyes was something never to be forgotten.

A massive, whirling column of flame rose into the sky, well beyond their ability to see. In the center stood Parean, shielded from the towering inferno by the glowing aura that surrounded her. As they stared, dumbstruck, the blaze slowly dissipated and Parean fell to her hands and knees. It was then that the truly horrific nature of what had occurred was revealed.

The area around Parean, over a mile wide Loghain estimated, was incinerated. Nothing remained; trees, plants, groundcover, all gone. Even the earth itself was scorched and blackened. Loghain noticed that all the damage from the flames was directed behind her, as if she had protected them.

The Templars were not so fortunate. Being located at the center of the blast, they had been obliterated; their ashes spread over the area of destruction. As they approached Parean, Loghain saw no trace of the mother and her little girl or their horse and wagon. They had been caught in the blaze as well and completely consumed. Only the boy survived.

A blood-curdling, almost inhuman wail broke the silence of the moment. Parean, still kneeling on the ground, surveyed the damage she had done, her face a twisted and grotesque mask of disgust and self-loathing. She reached out and grabbed Alistair's sword arm. Her blood-filled eyes held his with a look of utter desperation.

"Kill me!" she begged.

Alistair was taken aback. "What? No! I'm not going to kill you!"

"It is your duty as a Templar to strike down a dangerous mage! Do you not see what I have done?!" She swept her hand around, directing his attention to the devastation all around her.

When Alistair did not respond, she turned her attention to Loghain, her pleas becoming more intense. "You must kill me, Loghain! I know you are distrustful of mages and I have proven too dangerous to be allowed to live! Stop me now before I kill more innocents!" 

Loghain's face was unreadable. "No. I will not kill you. You're skills are too valuable to our cause to lose them." His tone was controlled and matter-of-fact. "You were defending yourself in an impossible situation. In those instances, sometimes innocents are hurt or killed. It is an unfortunate reality when you are a soldier."

Frantic, she turned to Morrigan as her last chance for absolution. Surely a fellow mage would understand the risks of her continued existence and cast her into The Void to face The Maker's judgment. She knew it was pointless, however, when she saw Morrigan's expression. She was staring at Parean, uncharacteristically awestruck, her mouth agape.

"Such power...I have never before witnessed a level of magical power as this, apart from Flemeth. You...may even be her equal. Tis madness to even consider destroying a power such as yours." Parean's spirit sank with Morrigan's breathless comment.

Parean rose to her feet, her eerily red eyes staring at each of them in turn. Reaching down, she retrieved her staff from where it had fallen in her struggle with the Templar. "Then," she muttered softly, "I will have to force your hand." Staff in hand, she thrust it over her head, circling it in time with her free hand as she prepared to cast her spell.

"Please Parean; don't force me to smite you." Alistair tried to speak calmly to the agitated mage. "I don't want to hurt you again," he winced at the memory, "but I can't allow you to attack us either." 

She knew he was right; he could stop her by simply draining her mana. Distraught, she dropped her hands, ending her spell. _'I cannot live with this anymore. I do not wish to put anyone else at risk.'_

"I will not attack you," she spoke solemnly, "but I cannot go on knowing that my presence puts you all in jeopardy."

With that, Parean lifted her arms...and burst into flames.

"No!" Alistair ran toward her, not sure of what he would do. Within seconds, a blast of frigid air rushed by him, striking Parean and extinguishing the flames. As she collapsed on the ground, shivering and drained of strength, she slipped into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_the next chapter is pretty dark...if you are easily offended by sensitive subject matter then you probably don't want to read it..._ **


	10. He Who Is Brave Is Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Parean opens up about the dark secrets in her past..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The secret of happiness is freedom. The secret of freedom is courage." ~ Thucydides
> 
> "We need not destroy the past. It is gone." ~ John Cage
> 
> "When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be." ~ Lao Tzu
> 
> "History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage doesn't need to be lived again." ~ Maya Angelou
> 
> **_Just wanted to preface this with a warning...Part of this chapter is very dark and deals bluntly with a sensitive subject...if you are easily offended, you probably don't want to read it...also, if you haven't read "The Stolen Throne", consider this your *spoiler alert*._**

**Chapter 10  He Who Is Brave Is Free**

She felt as though she were lighter than air, floating above the ground. Her body was moving forward but not under her control. As her senses returned, she realized that she was being carried. Parean stirred slightly, groaning softly, her body aching and stiff from the day's events. She thought back on the occurrence, it all seeming very surreal to her. The scene replayed in her mind, bringing with it a sense of déjà vu.

"She's awake!"

Alistair's voice was filled with excitement and relief. She opened her eyes to see that he was the one carrying her. He turned and walked toward the others. Parean noticed that Loghain held the small boy in his arms. He was clinging to Loghain as though releasing him meant death; the horror of his family's demise etched on his face.

Parean glanced toward the boy and their eyes met. His expression of horror turned to fear as he looked upon the one responsible for killing his family. His grasp on Loghain's neck tightened as he buried his head into Loghain's chest. 

He patted the boy soothingly, "It's alright, child. No one is going to hurt you." The boy visibly relaxed, looking up at Loghain with a weak smile.

 _'Strange...'_ Parean thought as she continued to observe the boy, _'I'm staring at this boy whose family I just slaughtered and I feel...nothing. I should be overwhelmed with guilt or anguish, and yet, there is nothing.'_

"Are you alright? You were out for quite awhile." Alistair gently set Parean down, steadying her as she regained her balance.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you Alistair." She was surprised at how flat her words sounded.

Morrigan came to her side and roughly grabbed her arm, shaking it, "I sensed that you were a mage of great power when we met but I did not realize how powerful until today. There are mages who gladly offer themselves to demons for the kind of power you wield by nature. Why do you not use it to your advantage?" The scowl on her face made it clear that she was appalled at what she considered a waste of talent and ability.

Parean looked at Morrigan, her eyes blank, "Because I cannot control it." She made no other attempt to explain herself.

Morrigan shot back, "Then you are a fool! Twould ability such as this not be useful in defeating the Blight?"

Parean turned away from her, "What's done is done. It serves no purpose to dwell on 'what if's'." Her tone was calm and matter-of-fact.

Loghain agreed, "Enough Morrigan. Parean is quite right." His gaze fell upon her, "We will discuss the matter further when we make camp for the night. As for now, we should speak no more of it, time's wasting."

She bowed slightly, "As you wish."

Morrigan threw up her hands in frustration, "Fine! I have no desire to waste time arguing with a simpleton who refuses to see the truth of it!" With that, she transformed and ran off ahead of the group.

They traveled in silence. Alistair occasionally chattered aimlessly, trying the break the quiet. Parean, sullen and withdrawn, made no comment to any of his prodding. Loghain, his face a mask of stone, walked stoically beside her. Parean imagined that this, his General's persona, is how he earned the reputation for being taciturn and cold. Even with the small amount of time that she had known him, she knew that nothing could be further from the truth. He had the same dry sense of humor that she, herself had, and he could be quite warm and endearing.

Some ways down the road, they happened upon a group of merchants traveling to Redcliffe. Happy to know that some Grey Wardens survived Ostagar, and eager to aid The Hero of River Dane, they gladly re-supplied them with provisions and gave them horses for their journey. One merchant agreed to take the boy to Redcliffe and re-unite him with his remaining family.

With their acquisition of the horses, they were able to travel swiftly and make-up for lost time. By the time they stopped to make camp for the night, they were little more than a half-day out from The Circle of Magi. They camped in a clearing near the lower edge of Lake Calenhad. After the camp was set up and a fire started, Loghain sent Alistair and Morrigan out to hunt for food. He wanted to speak with Parean about the day's events in private.

Sitting down by the fire, he beckoned her to join him. "We need to speak of what happened. I need to know if you pose a threat to us."

"I understand your concern, Loghain. I apologize for my behavior earlier, but I was not in my right mind. I assure you that I will pose no threat to any of you." She stood by the fire, looking at him blankly, completely devoid of emotion.

Loghain studied her intently. She had an air of rigidness about her as she stood there, not her usual casual, relaxed stance. Her words were neutral, her face expressionless.

"You should understand that, given your circumstances, you did what was necessary to survive. It takes a strong-will as well as a great courage and inner strength to do what you must even if the consequences of that action may be devastating. You also had the presence of mind to protect us which shows you do have some measure of control." He tried to be as reassuring as he could. Aside from the obvious morale issue, he knew the moment he saw the look of self-loathing on her face that she thought herself a monster. She was no monster; quite the opposite and he wanted to help her see it.

"Thank you. Yes, I do have a small amount of control in where it strikes. I can direct it away from only one area, which is why I could not protect you and the family." Her voice softened slightly, "In that moment, I had to make a split second decision and I could not bear to see you hurt, especially by my hand." A hint of a smile touched her lips and warmed her eyes that, until now, had been cold and hard.

 _'What an odd thing to say...is she speaking of all of us, or me specifically?'_ he wondered curiously. He would need to think on it for a time and, perhaps, question her about it later.

"When did you discover you had this power?" He wanted to know why she hadn't learned to control it in the Circle, but he was also genuinely curious about her.

She sighed deeply, "There has always been magic in the Amell family. I knew there was something 'different' about me at a very young age. I discovered that I could manipulate fire and heat when I was 8 years old. My parents told me to never let anyone know of my abilities."

Parean stared at the fire, her mind far away, lost in the memory. _'Why are you telling him this?'_ her mind chided. _'Because I want him to know,'_ she whispered under her breath.

"One day, while playing near a brook, I tripped and fell in the water. I was completely drenched when I waded back to shore. My mother had warned me to stay away from the water. I couldn't go home soaked to the skin so I tried use my powers to dry myself. Of course, being so young, I was unable to control it properly and instead of just heating my body enough to dry my clothing, a large heat wave blasted out. Apparently, there was a group of children playing in the area and one was struck by the wave."

Her eyes darkened, "Later that night, the Templars came to our home. They informed my parents that I had been observed using magic and I was to come with them to the Circle. One of the Templars whisked me up as my mother screamed and begged them not to take me. She grabbed the Templar's arm, trying to release me, and he threw her back. My mother, heavy with child, lost her balance and fell hard against a table, breaking it. My father charged at them but stopped short as they drew their swords."

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, "They told my parents to stay back and be glad that they were not being taken as well to face punishment for harboring me. They threatened to kill me on the spot if my parents interfered with a 'templar's sacred duty'. I saw my mother lying on the ground, bleeding and crying hysterically, my father enraged but helpless to do anything. I was being taken from my home by men with swords who would kill me and my family without hesitation. I screamed and began straining to free myself when the Templar struck me."

Parean slowly opened her eyes and looked at Loghain. He searched her eyes and saw the same look from earlier; self-loathing and hatred combined with pure anguish. He knew what was coming and, though he said nothing, his heart went out to her.

She continued on, her voice barely above a whisper, "The next thing I knew, I was on the ground and the Templars, my parents and my home were gone. Nothing remained but a large area of black, charred earth. I did not know what had happened at first, but as my mind began to clear, I saw visions of what I had done. I wandered aimlessly until I reached the Chantry in Lothering and turned myself over to the Templars. They brought me to the Circle and presented me to Knight-Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving. When told of what I had done, the Knight-Commander ordered that I be made Tranquil immediately. The First Enchanter convinced him that I should be given a chance to learn to control my power and that he, himself, would see to my training."

"What you do mean, made Tranquil?" He had seen the Tranquil at Ostagar but no one outside of the Circle and the Chantry knew what it entailed.

"When a mage is considered too weak to resist a demon or too powerful to be trusted, they can be forced into The Rite of Tranquility. They are cut off from the Fade and lose their magical abilities. Doing so also removes their emotions. They become cold, unfeeling husks who exist but do not really live." She shuddered at the thought.

"If the First Enchanter trained you, then why do you not have control over your power?" Loghain thought the First Enchanter must be a poor instructor if he could not teach one as eager to learn as she. When they left Redcliffe, after only a few hours of riding tandem with Alistair, she had asked him to teach to her ride on her own. Loghain showed her briefly how to mount and dismount, how to handle the reins and balance herself at any gait. She listened intently and to see her now, one would think she had been riding all her life. She had also expressed an interest in learning close combat fighting. He had attached a blade to the end of her staff and was teaching her basic melee tactics. He found her a quick study and she had already developed a method for switching effortlessly between melee attacks and casting her spells. It seemed strange to him that she would spend so many years in the Circle and not have more control over her abilities.

"At first, I need to learn the basics of using my magic just as any other apprentice. He quickly discovered that my 'problem' lies in my emotional state. It is when I lose control of my emotions that I become a danger to everyone around me. Since I was too young at the time to learn to split my focus on controlling my magic and my emotions, he enchanted an amulet with a mind control spell to suppress any strong feelings in me. Once I was older and knew how to handle my magic, he taught me the spell so that I could control my emotions at will. We...disagreed...on how I should learn to deal with my true power." She turned and stared into the fire once more.

"Disagreed?" Loghain looked at her questioningly.

"Yes. When you see me casting my spells, I am only using a fraction of my power. I can precisely place my strikes anywhere I choose. As you saw, I cannot do the same with my full power. Irving wanted me to learn to focus my full power in the same way. I...disagreed." She stared blankly at the flames.

"How did you want to use your power?"

Parean shook her head dejectedly, "That's just it. I didn't want to use it at all. I wanted to rid myself of it and just be a 'normal' mage. I spent my time researching Tevinter magic, hoping that they would know of a way to lessen my power. Unfortunately, it seems that the magisters would have sought to increase power such as mine, even exploit it for their own gains. I was left with little choice but to do as Irving wished. In hindsight, it turned out to be somewhat beneficial as his instruction is the only reason I can 'protect' one area of the damage radius."

She turned to face him, her eyes fixed on his, "Had I not learned even that much control, you would have died on that road today. Everyone would have died because of me." He saw a hint of shame and hurt in her, otherwise, expressionless face.

"I assume it was the experience with your parents that caused your intense fear of Templars. Understandably so." Loghain saw her visibly stiffen, her eyes went blank.

"No. That came about because of one...particular...templar." Indecision crossed her face; her look became distant.

 _'You have already revealed too much. Do you wish a repeat of today, right here in the middle of camp?'_ her mind's warning all too clear.

She peered at him, feeling oddly calm. He had helped her grow as a person; made her realize that she did have an inner strength. She'd learned so much from him; most importantly that the bravery she sought for so long was always inside her. All she needed was the courage to push past her fears and do what she knew must be done. She intended to use that lesson now.

 _'I want him to know...before...'_ she stopped herself. _'He has influence. Maybe he can do something to protect the others.'_

Loghain studied her closely. Her stare was intense, boring through him. "There is no need for you to continue if you do not wish to. My main concern is that those in my command are at their best. I will need you to be in top form at all times if we are to end the Blight."

"No. I want to tell you. I need to speak of it and confront this demon that has plagued me for too long. Perhaps, once the Blight is dealt with, you may be in a position to deal with this 'situation' as well." 

He noticed the change in her demeanor immediately. Her expression was empty, her eyes hollow and vapid. She sat down beside him, silently considering how to begin. Loghain waited, saying nothing, giving her time to collect her thoughts. With a strained sigh, she began relaying her story. 

"Ser 'Violeur' was his name. Not his real name, but what many of the mages called him in secret."

Loghain's heart skipped a beat and he felt a lump in his throat. His mind instantly went back to his youth. 

"I never understood why they called him that, especially since it's Orlesian and he is a Free Marcher. I tried to look it up in a book of Orlesian names but was never able to find it."

"That's because it is not a name, but an Orlesian word." Loghain's blood ran cold. He remembered hearing his father call the Orlesian bastard who invaded their home "Violeur" before seeing his father knocked unconscious and his mother raped and killed. "It means..."

Parean held up a hand. "I know...I discovered it's meaning...later."

The tone of her voice as she spoke, unemotional and detached, was so unlike her that it made him ill-at-ease.

#############

"Hello, Parean." Ser Cullen greeted her as she approached from down the hall. "How do you fair today?"

"Hello, Ser Cullen. I am well, thank you. I see you are almost over your sickness." Parean smiled at the templar. He was one of the few templars who seemed to genuinely like the mages.

"Yes, thank you. As much as I love my home, being in a cold and drafty tower all the time can be a burden." He chuckled softly. "I suppose you are off to the library again."

"As usual. I heard that there is a new shipment of books that has arrived and I'm hoping that one of them will have what I've been looking for." She knew it was unlikely but her hope remained.

"Well, I'll not keep you from it then. Good luck to you and Maker's blessings be upon you." Ser Cullen crossed his arms over his chest and bowed slightly.

As she approached the library, she felt a gauntleted hand grab her arm. She stopped short and turned to face the templar. "Is there a problem Ser..."

He raised his hand, cutting her off, "You must come with me. I have something important to discuss with you that cannot be overheard." He began to pull her toward the hallway.

"Of course, Ser." She dutifully followed him, wondering why he had yet to release her arm. His hushed tone and quick steps gave her cause for concern.

"Where are you taking this mage?" Ser Cullen's voice was sharp as they rushed past him.

"It's none of your concern," was the only reply.

 _'What is going on?'_ Parean was confused and becoming more anxious. _'Why do I feel this way? He is a good man, one of the few, like Ser Cullen who cares for the mages. He's always been kind to me...and he's so handsome.'_ Parean blushed at the thought. His piercing, bright blue eyes were one of the defining features of his masculine face. She had to admit to herself that she was slightly enamored with him.

"Come, we can talk freely in here." He led her into one of the many storage rooms in the tower. Most of the rooms in the tower did not have doors on them so that the templars could observe the mages at all times. The storage rooms were an exception to that rule as only the tranquil and the templars were allowed to use them.

She waited patiently as he closed and locked the door behind them. He turned to face her; his face had a look of seriousness that commanded her full attention. "I have heard some disturbing comments regarding you from several templars."

"Have I done something wrong?" She was instantly frightened as it only took one negative report from a templar to the Knight-Commander for an apprentice to face the Rite of Tranquility...or worse. Even more risky for her, as Knight-Commander Greagoir was already distrustful of her power.

"No, not at all." His smile calmed her nerves. "These comments were of a more...personal...nature. It seems that several of the more...brutal...templars have noticed your...blossoming womanhood, and are contemplating breaking their vows in the most unseemly ways." His meaning was not lost on Parean. She had heard of templars who felt entitled to rape and beat mages at their whim. The thought that she may be the object of such an attack shook her to her core.

"What can I do? I cannot defend myself against a templar without risking tranquility or death. Please! Can you help me?" She begged him desperately, not knowing where else to turn.

Another smile crossed his face. "Certainly. I protect several of the female mages who are in the same situation. Once the templars know that a mage is under my protection, they back down." He saw the relief in her eyes. "Of course, my protection comes at a price." The low and deliberate tone in his voice made Parean very aware that his smile, once a comfort to her, now appeared menacing.

"A price?" She asked hesitantly, "I have nothing to give."

He stepped toward her, trapping her against the wall. His fingers stroked her face. "You have much that Ser 'Violeur' would want. If you are willing to compensate me, you will be mine and no other templar will touch you. If not, I cannot say what will happen." His penetrating blue eyes raked lustfully over her body, as if they were seeing through her robes.

She tried to get past him to reach the door but he blocked her every move. She attempted to scream but he roughly covered her mouth with his hand. "I would suggest you become more cooperative, my dear. No one will think twice about another dead mage found floating in Lake Calenhad, killed leaping from a window in a failed escape attempt. Am I clear?" His look was deadly serious and she had no doubt that he would follow through on his threat. Slowly, she nodded her head in agreement.

He tentatively removed his hand from her mouth. Satisfied that she would not make a sound, he lunged on her, pressing his lips roughly against her mouth. She tasted blood as the brutality of his kiss caused the inside of her lips to scrape across her teeth, tearing her flesh. The tears streaming down her face and her body shaking uncontrollably only seemed to excite him as he released her mouth.

His hand grabbed a fistful of her hair, wrenching her head back to expose her neck. Parean yelped as her head hit the hard stone wall and she felt the area become moist as the blood trickled out of the gash. The look he gave her chilled her to the bone. "I told you...not a sound." His mouth came down hard on her neck and she gasped as it felt that he might crush her throat. Searing pain tore through her neck as his teeth clamped down and pulled at the delicate skin. Remembering his warning, she bit her lip to stifle her scream.

He looked at her, hair becoming soaked with blood, lips swollen and bloodied, neck bruised. Suddenly he struck her with his gauntleted hand, her eye instantly turning black and swelling shut. Still, she did not utter a sound.

"Good girl," he murmured huskily, "now, let us start the real fun." He laughed at the look of sheer, primal terror in her eye.

He returned to her tortured neck, pulling on her hair to expose more of the tender flesh. Frantically, Parean looked around with her one good eye. She saw a bottle sitting on a shelf, reached for it and brought it down on the side of his head. He yowled in pain as the glass shattered, spilling the acidic contents over him. He staggered back, grasping at the shards lodged in his face and ear. She tried to escape but he still blocked the door.

"Now," he growled, murderous rage in his eyes, "you are going to pay." As he grabbed the front of her robes, he saw her enchanted amulet around her neck. He tore it from her neck, ripping deep gouges on both sides of her throat, and smashed it against the wall. 

With her mind control amulet gone, Parean felt her power surging. The blood vessels in her eyes burst, turning them blood red. She felt her rage building and she welcomed it. _'Yes...he will regret ever touching me...'_ her mind was racing, preparing for what was to come...then suddenly...nothing...She felt the grueling pain of her mana draining away.

Ser 'Violeur' had noticed the increase in her power as well and he was able to smite her before her power escalated beyond his ability to counter. She fell to the ground, weak and unable to move.

He knew she could no longer resist him. He reveled in his besting of her. "Now you'll learn to mind your betters. Killing is too good for you, so perhaps I'll just tell the Knight-Commander about how you are dabbling in blood magic." A sinister grin touched his lips.

Parean panted, barely able to speak, "But...they will...make me tranquil."

He leaned down and stared directly in her eye, "That's right. Once you're Tranquil, you will do anything I ask."

She could do nothing to stop him. Grabbing a length of twine, he secured her hands above her head, tying them to the leg of a sturdy wooden table. He knew there was no need to as she was too weak to resist. The look of horror on her face was all the reason he needed. Taking his dagger from his waistband, he traced it down her throat, pressing the point against her flesh. Placing the length of the blade under the collar of her robe, he quickly cut through the material. With one deft cut, he sliced her small clothes, exposing her breasts. He tossed the dagger aside, removed his gauntlets and began fondling her, twisting her nipples and torturing her most intimate areas. His mouth trailed down her chest, his teeth finding her nipple and biting it so deeply that he almost sheared it off her body.

He examined the room closely, "Let's see what we can find the play with, my dear." There were several round objects of varying lengths. _'Ah...but what fun would that be when there are so many other shapes and sizes...'_ he thought, a sadistic smile coming to his face.

Parean's mind was lost to her; her consciousness in another place. She felt nothing, saw only darkness. So detached was she from her surrounding that she didn't hear the door crash open nor did she see Ser 'Violeur' collapse to the ground beside her. Far in the distance she faintly heard someone call her name. The darkness began to recede and her vision began to clear. The voice became louder, more familiar. She saw the vague outline of what appeared to be a man. She heard a haggard scream that almost drown out the voice calling her. _'Where is that scream coming from'_ she wondered. When the darkness finally cleared, she realized it was coming from her.

"Parean! Please, calm down. It's over and you are safe." Ser Cullen spoke softly to her.

She turned her head and saw Ser 'Violeur' lying motionless on the ground. Panic swelled in her when she saw that he still lived. As she turned her head back toward Ser Cullen, she caught a glimpse of him reaching for her hands. Her body violently shook and she began to sob uncontrollably, trying even in her weaken state to move away from him.

He pulled back immediately at her reaction. "It's alright. I am just trying to release you." He carefully reached for her hands and cut her bindings. He helped her to stand, taking a blanket from another shelf and covering her with it. When it was obvious that she would be unable to walk on her own, he gently picked her up and carried her out of the room. Another templar came running down the hallway, investigating the commotion.

"She has been injured severely. Take her to the healer quickly." Ser Cullen tried to hand Parean over the other templar but the panic-stricken look she gave him convinced him otherwise. "Nevermind, I will take her myself. Guard him and do not let him leave until I return."

############

Loghain sat there, speechless, as Parean finished her story. Neither had noticed that both Alistair and Morrigan had returned from hunting and could not be sure as to how much of the telling they heard. No one said a word for several moments.

"He was sent away from the Circle. He is the one that templar spoke of; the templar I supposedly 'bewitched' with blood magic. It was only on Ser Cullen's word that he was punished. Had it been only my word, I would have been made tranquil or executed for daring to accuse a fine, upstanding templar of such vile acts." She remained curiously calm.

Alistair quietly interjected, "Where did they send him?"

"To the Gallows in Kirkwall."

Morrigan looking at her strangely, "Why not hang him in Ferelden? Why send him away to face judgment?"

Parean replied glumly, "The Gallows is what the Chantry in Kirkwall calls their Circle of Magi. It used to be a Tevinter prison for slaves of the magisters. So Ser 'Violeur' disappears as if he never existed and Ser Alrik returns home to the Free Marches to serve in The Gallows. From what I've heard of the Kirkwall Circle, he will fit in well there."

"As for how this relates to the events of today, those templars were obviously friends of Ser 'Violeur's' and the one restraining me took great pleasure in making me aware of it. I lost control and, well, you saw the result." Her tone was blunt, her features hard.

"What does 'Violeur' mean?" Alistair asked tentatively. Parean stared at the ground, unable to answer.

"It is the Orlesian word for 'rapist'." Loghain said quietly. He stood up from the seat by the fire and turned to face her. She looked up at him, her face drawn and anguished, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Thank you for your explanation of today's events. While I cannot guarantee your safety at all times, know this. As long as you are under my command, no templar will harm you in my presence." 

"Nor in mine." Alistair added resolutely.

"Tis always a pleasure to deprive the Chantry of another lyrium-addled fool. I shall start with Alistair if you wish." Morrigan glared gleefully at Alistair.

"Hey!"

Parean smiled and chuckled softly. "Thank you for your kind words, but it is truly unnecessary. I promise you that I will be no trouble to anyone." She stood from her place by the fire. "Now, if you will excuse me, I think I'm going to go get some rest."

"Don't you want to eat first? We brought back several rabbits for supper." Alistair looked at her, confused. Grey Wardens have a ravenous appetite and since they hadn't eaten in several hours, she should be almost starving.

"Not now. Perhaps I'll have some later." Parean smiled weakly at him.

"Yes, go get some rest. I want to reach the Circle before evening tomorrow so we will be leaving at first light." Loghain gestured toward her tent.

She bowed slightly to her companions. "Good night all and thank you for everything." With that, she turned and entered her tent.

As she stood inside her tent, she could hear their quiet whispers as they continued to discuss her story. She reflected on the last few weeks that they've spent together. She had come to know them better than she believed she would in the beginning. Alistair and Morrigan had become her closest friends. It was her thoughts of Loghain that brought a genuine smile to her face. It seemed strange to her now, as she thought back on their first meeting, how nervous she was to speak to him. He had been her idol; bigger than life. As she came to know him better, she saw the humanity in him and now, he held a special place in her heart.

A feeling of bittersweet melancholy swept over her as she raised her hands to cast her spell. A red aura surrounded her body and she felt her life drain away. As she laid down on her bedroll, she thought about how much she would miss them and wondered if they would miss her. 

Would _he_ miss her? 

A sense of peace and comfort filled her final moments...she wished that she could let him know it was because him... _he_ had been her last thought...

The next morning, Alistair was causing quite a stir outside of Parean's tent. He was yelling her name and shaking the tent so vigorously that it threatened to collapse.

"Do you intend to collapse the tent upon her?" Morrigan snidely remarked as she approached him.

"Ha, ha. Very funny. She is not answering me when I call her. Maybe you should go in to make sure she is alright." Alistair concerned look gave Morrigan no small amount of pleasure.

"If tis so, then why have you not entered?"

"Me? I'm not going to enter a lady's tent. That would be totally inappropriate." His face turned a deep crimson.

"What are you two going on about now?" Loghain asked wearily. He tired of their constant bickering and sometimes wished that they would either get over their differences or kill each other.

"Parean does not answer when I call her." He shook the tent again. Still no response.

"Morrigan, go in and find out what's going on." Loghain gestured for her to enter Parean's tent.

She sighed heavily, "Very well."

A moment later she hastily exited the tent, mumbling loudly, "I knew she was a fool." She briskly walked past Alistair and Loghain without speaking a word to them.

"Well?" Loghain asked, exasperated that he even needed to pose the question.

"See for yourself." Morrigan called out as she retreated to her tent.

Loghain entered the tent. Parean was lying motionless on her bedroll. Her face was ashen and her lips were a purplish blue. Already knowing what he would find, he knelt down and stroked her cheek; her skin was cold as ice. He stared at her body. She had a serene, peaceful look to her. Staring down at her, his heart felt strangely heavy and a sense of sadness came over him. Slowly he rose and exited the tent.

Alistair stopped Loghain as he left Parean's tent, his tone anxious, "What's going on?"

"There is nothing to be done for her." Loghain began to walk toward the woods.

"What do you mean, 'nothing to be done for her'?" Alistair looked at the tent, considering whether or not to enter.

Loghain walked back and took him by the arm. "Alistair! She is gone. Come, we must prepare her pyre and see her to the Maker."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
>  _The idea for Ser Violeur's name came from wanting to call him something descriptive of what he was, and, as we all know, in Ferelden anything Orlesian is bad. Since Orlesian=French, I put 'rapist' into Google Translate and it gave me "Violeur" as the French equivalent. The Ser Alrik part is just because when he says that "Once you're tranquil, you'll do anything I ask" line, 'rapist' is the first thing that comes to mind. In my Ser 'Violeur' story, I can so see him 'pimping out' the mages he "protects" to the other like-minded templars. Jerk._ **
> 
> **_Anyway, sorry if I offended anyone, but remember, you were warned at the start..._**


	11. Happiness...If Only For A Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****  
> _In death, Parean has finally found true happiness..._   
> 

**Chapter 11  Happiness...If Only For A Moment**

The room is spacious and decidedly masculine. His presence can be felt the moment one enters the room. Mahogany furniture is spread sparsely throughout, yet the room still feels comfortable and welcoming. As he is an avid reader, tall bookcases line the walls, filled with the subjects he enjoys; history books ranging from ages past through The Orlesian Occupation, books on the lore and geography of Ferelden, Rivain, The Anderfels, all the nations of Thedas. A surprisingly large number of his books are about Orlais.

_'To plan your enemy's defeat, you must have knowledge of who they are,'_ is his reasoning.

His desk is a true work of art. Carved as a single piece from a massive mahogany tree and left in its natural state with no staining or decoration, it is the perfect representation of him; strong and impressive yet simple and practical. 

Several parchments of varying shape and size, some rolled up and stored carefully in chests surrounding his desk and several lying open across the length of the desk, give evidence to his true passion; his maps. He spends many hours lovingly scrutinizing his maps, accompanied by the corresponding book, studying every line, curve and marking with all the enthusiasm of a connoisseur with a fine wine. His collection of maps span from the ancient Tevinter Imperium to villages considered too small for official recording. During The Orlesian Occupation, he began creating maps of the small villages he, Maric and Rowan would visit while gathering support for the rebellion. Over time, he became a skilled cartographer and, in some cases, his maps were the only evidence that a village, decimated by the Orlesians, even existed.

His most valued possession hangs on the wall behind his desk. A large mahogany case, stained a deep reddish brown with a glass face holds two maps. One, given to him by Maric, shows the expanse of the Orlesian Empire across Ferelden during The Occupation. The other is a map of present day Ferelden that was specially commissioned to include the villages he, himself, had mapped. Surrounding the case are his original drawings, each in its own matching frame. The entire display is enchanted by a magical ward that protects the contents from damage, natural and unnatural, and theft. Beneath the display hangs an etching bearing the words:

> _'Loghain,_
> 
> _You have given a name to those who would have been forgotten and secured the future, for Ferelden, and for us._
> 
> _Without you, my love, none of this would have been possible._
> 
> _Forever yours in this world and the next,_
> 
> _Parean'_

The commissioned map and the display had been her wedding gift to him.

She looks around the room; a smile brightening her face. Small touches in the room mark her presence. He added a bookcase to hold her growing collection of magic books, both rare and common. Whenever he travels to Denerim, he visits The Wonders of Thedas in search of more books and magical items for her collection. 

She walks to the window and sits at the ornate dressing table he bought for her on one such trip. It is stained the same deep reddish brown as the rest of the furniture, save his desk, in their room and polished to a high shine. A large oval looking glass rests in a delicate and intricately carved frame at the rear of the table.

Moving over to the far side of the room, she stares into the fire blazing in the stone fireplace. An image flashes in her mind of a time when the area around the fireplace only held one rather ragged-looking leather chair and a small side table. She hired the town craftsman to make a matching divan, side table and chair as well as restore his chair to a more presentable condition. She placed a large fur rug in front of the fireplace with the divan at the head and their respective chairs on either side, giving the area a more intimate and relaxed feeling. Several large elaborately embroidered pillows adorn the area with smaller matching ones on the divan. Many nights they will retire to their chairs, books in hand, reading silently or lounge together on the divan, his arm around her as she lays her head on his chest. 

As she eases down into his chair, the leather still thick with his scent, she notices the crystal goblets emblazoned with the Wyvern of Gwaren sitting on the floor. Her smile widens as the memory of the previous night floods her vision; they lay on the fur rug, propped up with pillows, sipping wine and leisurely talking about the day's events before falling asleep, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

After a few long moments, she rises from his chair and walks through the room. As she does, she is struck by the most prominent evidence that he wants to make this room hers; the scent of roses. Every table in the room, except one, holds a simple vase. His standing order to the servants that every vase is to always be filled with fresh yellow roses, her favorite, is followed without question.

She approaches their massive four-poster bed and sits on the edge of the overstuffed down mattress. Lying back on the coverlet, she gazes up at the huge canopy above her that is covered in the deep burgundy fabric that matches the curtains surrounding the bed as well as the draperies on all the windows. She wonders how the servants are able to reach that high up to remove the canopy for laundering. She delights in the softness and comfort of the down mattress and is amazed that she was ever able to sleep on the thin mattresses in The Circle or on the cold, hard ground in a tent.

Sitting up, she looks at her table beside the bed; the only one in the room without a vase of roses. A long, plain glass box set upon a wooden base sits on the table, holding her most valued possession. She opens the lid and removes a single, long-stemmed rose forged in silverite with a hand-painted green stem and yellow bloom. Tears stream down her face as she remembers the night he gave her this perfect yellow rose. The words he spoke are etched on the wooden base:

> _'Parean,_
> 
> _Even this silverite rose, strong and beautiful, pales in comparison to the strength and beauty I see in you._
> 
> _You have brought joy back to my life, beloved, and I wish to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you have made me, if you will have me._
> 
> _I am yours...now and forever,_
> 
> _Loghain'_

She presses the rose against her chest tightly, hugging it lovingly, then raises it to her lips, kissing it softly. After one last tearful gaze, she places her treasure gently back into its case and closes the lid.

He stares at her from the doorway as she makes her way to the dressing table. She did not notice him enter nor did she feel his gaze as she admired his gift. His heart swells as he watches her attempt to repair the damage left by her tears. Quietly, he walks over to stand behind her.

"You do realize that trying to make yourself look unattractive is a fruitless task," he teases.

Instantly, her face beams and her lips pull back into a toothy smile. She turns to face him and leaps from her chair into his arms. Their kiss is long, deep and passionate. Reluctantly, she pulls herself away and looks at him mischievously. 

"Well, I simply must do something to protect the men of the Teyrnir from your jealous wrath," she counters. Raising his ire is something she enjoys immensely.

"Hah! And what do I have to be jealous of? I trust you completely and no man would dare act upon any illicit thought." He knows her tricks by now and is having none of it.

"That is wonderful to hear! I shall inform the seneschal that he will no longer be needed to chaperone the next time the craftsman's apprentice comes to the manor." She gazes into his eyes and strokes his hair. "Truly, I am the luckiest woman in the world to have such a sensible and cool-headed husband." With a quick peck on his cheek, she turns and walks toward the divan. She smiles and waits for the inevitable.

He does not disappoint. "The craftsman's apprentice? Here?" His tone is suspicious.

Her face beams as he takes her bait. "Yes," she says brightly, "you know, the handsome young man with those exquisite dark green eyes and long blonde hair." She turns dramatically and leans against the back of the divan.

His icy blue eyes fix on her, the look on his face sends shivers down her spine. "Does he come alone? Why is it that I have not seen him here?"

She smiles and cocks her head to the side, gazing dreamily at him while she gently strokes the divan. "Yes he does, quite frequently. Curiously, he always seems to arrive after you have departed on one of your extended trips." Slowly, deliberately, she strolls past him, sliding her hand over his chest, "Perhaps your perpetual scowl intimidates him." Pretending to examine the bed, she says thoughtfully, "I believe on his next visit I shall ask him to take measurements for a bench chest at the end of the bed. What do you think?"

He crosses the distance between them in seconds, grabbing her roughly and spinning her around to face him. His cold, hard eyes flash dangerously as they bear down into her clear blue eyes, his words dripping with malice. "I will tell you what I think," he hesitates for a single breath 

"I think he had better make a bench chest that is sturdier than the sodding desk chair he made for me. It was barely able to support my weight." He looks at her, the serious nature of his words evident on his face, "Perhaps you should seduce the craftsman instead. I know you have a penchant for older men. We would surely receive a finer quality of craftsmanship and perhaps even a bargain rate." He cannot suppress his smile at evading her trap.

Her look of shock melts into resignation. She wraps her arms around him, laying her head on his chest and sighs, "My love, you always know how to spoil my fun."

His arms envelop her as he pulls her close. Lessening his hold, he cupped her chin in his hand, "It seems that you take great pleasure in your attempts to irritate me. Why is that?"

She looks deeply into his eyes and smiles, "Because I love you when you're frustrated, and you're frustrated all the time. How many women can say that they love their husbands all the time?"

He chuckles as he kisses her forehead, "Then you must love me a great deal, beloved, because you are, by far, the most frustrating woman I have ever had the pleasure to call my wife."

She squeezes him tightly against her, "And you are the most insufferable man I have ever had the pleasure to call my husband."

Their quiet moment is broken by a light rapping on the door. The seneschal clears his throat, "Pardon the interruption my lord and lady but there is someone here who is requesting an audience with Teyrna Pareanin private." He looks nervously between Loghain and Parean.

"Really?" She looks wickedly at Loghain, "Perhaps the craftsman's apprentice is no longer intimidated by you, my love. Please, do try to keep the bloodletting to a minimum. It can be dreadfully hard to get stains out of the floor."

He glances at her and shrugs innocently, "If he continues to make unstable furniture then I make no promises. Of course, no bloodletting is necessary as we agreed that you would pursue the craftsman instead." He strokes her face as he takes his leave. "Do remember to make your suitor aware of the fact that I will return shortly, beloved." With that, he leaves the room.

She turned her attention to the seneschal who was staring intensely at the floor. "Who is this visitor?" They were expecting Cailan and Anora but the seneschal would have simply announced their arrival. She felt a cold shiver course through her body; something did not bode well.

"You would not believe me if I told you." The seneschal waved the visitor in and closed the door behind him.

Parean studied the visitor intently. He was older, perhaps in his fifties, with long blonde hair and the most stunning deep blue eyes she had ever seen. She did not recognize him, yet he seemed familiar to her; as if she had seen his face somewhere before.

"Greetings my lady," he said with a bow. "I've come to tell you that it is time for you to leave The Fade. You are needed elsewhere."

Parean gawked at the stranger for several moments in stunned silence. Quietly she whispered, "Who are you?"

The charm and warmth of his smile struck Parean with a sense of déjà vu. At that moment she knew who he was, even before he spoke his name.

"You may call me...Maric."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****  
> _Maric's appearance is courtesy of my son who is a huge Maric fan and wanted me to work him into the story somehow..._   
> 


	12. Even In Death, There Is No Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****  
>  _Maric explains to Parean why he's so rudely interrupted her Fade dream...Parean shows that she can be a manipulative bitch when she wants to...albeit not a very successful one though..._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This is your fair warning that this chapter contains some *spoilers* for The Stolen Throne and The Calling...remember...you have been warned..._

**Chapter 12  Even In Death, There Is No Peace**

_'Maric...'_

Her mind raced as she struggled to make sense of this unexpected turn of events.

_'Why...how...wh-what is he doing here?'_

Everything here was her creation; the Manor in Gwaren, the seneschal and servants, all the places they visited and the people they interacted with existed as she wished them to; even Loghain was only the image of the real man that she held in her own mind. This was her Fade dream; the world that she escaped to when she sought solace from the hardships of real life. Here, she was strong, brave...and happy.

_'Damn it! This is my sodding world and no one enters it unless I allow it!'_

"Hello? Anyone there? How long are you going to continue staring at me like that?" His words interrupted her thoughts and she realized that she was standing there, dumbstruck with her mouth agape.

"You cannot be King Maric," she stammered. "King Maric died over 5 years ago, lost at sea. Loghain very nearly lost his own life looking for him. He would not have returned without him had there been any chance that King Maric yet lived."

"Loghain is a good man and a true friend." He smiled affectionately at the thought. "And please, it's just Maric. I am no longer King of Ferelden."

Parean's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "If you are truly Maric, then why are you here speaking to me? I would think that you would wish to speak with Loghain." She regretted the question as soon as it left her lips.

"I told you. I have come to tell you that it is time for you to leave The Fade." Maric spoke with a certainty that caused a sense of panic to rise in Parean. He would not be easily dissuaded from his purpose.

"Leave The Fade? What do you mean 'leave The Fade'? You're not making any sense." Her lie sounded hollow and forced. _'Maker's Breath, you are a terrible liar,'_ her mind chided.

Maric simply chuckled at her failed attempt, "My lady, regardless of what Loghain may have told you about me, I am no fool. After spending so many years with a man who can read almost anyone like a book, I did pick up a few of his tricks. You are quite aware that this is The Fade."

With the nonchalant dismissal of her attempt to feign ignorance, her last defense against him shattered. She felt her panic subsiding and a growing anger taking its place.

_'Of course he knows about this place. Why wouldn't he? The Maker himself probably sent him to torment you. Look at him, standing there, smiling so smugly. He knows you have no way to refute what he is saying.'_

She could not believe what was happening. Her sanctuary, her refuge, the only place where she felt truly safe was being taken from her. She had created this world many years ago, patiently and lovingly modifying and expanding it over time. Finally, with the inclusion of Loghain, everything was as it should be and she would spend the rest of her eternity here, with him, in her perfect world. And now this interloper, with one simple statement, sought to destroy all of her work and steal any chance for her happiness.

Parean had reached her breaking point. If she lost this Fade dream then there would be no place left for her except The Void. She would not give up her world without a fight.

In an instant Parean's stare turned into a glare as the rage she felt toward Maric's intrusion shot from her eyes. The intensity of her emotions caused him to shift uncomfortably where he stood. She was prepared to do what she must, regardless of what that may be, and damn the consequences. It seems she too had learned an unforeseen lesson from Loghain.

She approached him slowly and deliberately, her mouth twisted into a scowl that made her lips appear as a thin line. Her words were icy and dark, venom dripping from every syllable as she hissed through tightly clenched teeth, "How dare you invade my world and so blithely order me to leave it! The only reason I don't kill you where you stand is because of what you mean to Loghain. What are you? Are you the spirit of Maric or a demon who has taken his form?"

Maric seemed truly surprised by her attack. He hesitated for only a moment. "I am neither a demon nor a spirit. My spirit is at the Maker's side. I, like those in your dream, am an image of Maric; an impression as it were. Specifically, I am Loghain's image of Maric. Whenever he is troubled I come to him in The Fade and help to temper his overreaching sense of practically and efficiency with a sense of what would be morally and ethically sound. You could say that I am his conscience, just as I was for him in life."

His face showed a hint of sadness as he continued, "He was greatly disturbed over what you revealed to him last night. More so than he will even admit to himself. I must say that he has devised several very...let's say, interesting...ways to handle the issue of Ser Alrik. If there is anything he can do, however, it must be handled in a more...proper...manner, and so here I am."

"That does not explain how you came to be here, in my dream. I did not call you nor did my Loghain. How do you even know who I am? Why do you care about what I choose to do with my eternity?" Parean was growing frustrated with the way he avoided answering her question. It made no sense that he would appear to her at all.

"You underestimate the impact you have had on Loghain." Maric's expression was serious. "As I said before, in life, I was Loghain's conscience; his moral and ethical guide. Though you may not know it, he has begun to see you in that role. I know who you are because I've seen the image he holds of you in his mind. And that, my lady, is why I say that you must leave The Fade. He needs the guidance of someone outside of The Fade to show him that there are alternatives to his cold, hard and unyielding practicality. Without it, I fear that, at best, he will be perceived as an arse and, at worse, he may turn the country against himself, even bring it to the brink of civil war." 

Parean scoffed at his mad ravings. "You are insane. There is no possible way that Ferelden would turn against Loghain. He is The Hero of River Dane! No offense to your namesake but, without Loghain, 'Maric the Savior' would never have been and there would be no Ferelden. I am not a fool, and wild, impossible fairy tales will not convince me of your delusions."

Maric started to protest but Parean held up a hand to silence him. "Even if I believed you, I cannot go back. In the real world, I am dead. By the time anyone has discovered me, I will have been dead for several hours, far beyond the point of any revival spell or healing magic. More likely, Loghain, Alistair and Morrigan have moved on and my body is currently being picked apart by wolves or, as is customary, has been weighed and thrown into Lake Calenhad to be devoured by the vile creatures that inhabit the lake."

Maric shook his head, "No, they have not moved on. Even now your mage friend is trying to revive you. Can you not hear her calling you?"

Parean listened and heard only a faint whistling of the wind through the room. "I hear nothing of the sort. As I said, there is no way for me to return. Your sojourn into my dream has been a waste of your time and mine."

She turned her back on him dismissively, "Because I know how much you mean to Loghain, you may remain to see him when he returns and come back to visit as often as you like, provided that you do not let him know that this is The Fade." She gestured toward the door, "and now, if you will excuse me, I must ask you to leave the room as I need to prepare for the king and queen's arrival." Without another word, Parean walked over to her dressing table, sat down, and began her grooming.

In a moment, Maric was behind her, staring incredulously at her in the looking glass. "Do you really think you can be rid of me that easily? That I can be shooed away like some petulant child? Like it or not, you must face the reality of your situation. If you cannot, then I _shall_ wait for Loghain and make him see reason."

Parean sighed heavily and set her brush down on the dressing table. Why was he pushing so hard for her to leave? She dismissed the thought as irrelevant since there was no possible way for her to return. What did he want from her? She is dead. Why can he not understand that and leave her be? 

_'This tactic obviously isn't working. He will not see reason and now wants to involve Loghain. You must get him to leave before Loghain returns. More...drastic...measures may be called for.'_ Loghain had mentioned once that Maric allowed himself to be ruled by his emotions. Perhaps she could exploit that weakness to her advantage.

She rose from her chair, stepped out from behind the dressing table, and turned to face him. Her expression pleaded with him to understand, her voice brimming with emotion. "You do not understand what this dream means to me. My whole life has been one misery after another. I have been afforded contentment, even brief glimpses of happiness, only on rare occasion. Just when I begin to believe that it might actually last, it is ripped away from me. The Maker's idea of a cruel joke."

She studied his face for any reaction and saw the sympathy in his eyes. "I created this world because I can control not only what happens but who I am as well. In this world, I am a normal mage with normal powers. It doesn't matter if I lose control of myself here because I am no more dangerous than any other mage. In the real world I was unsure, inept and in a constant state of melancholy. In creating this Fade dream, I became strong, confident and, for the most part, content."

"After the incident with 'Ser Violeur', I withdrew from any interactions with others in the Circle, Templar and mage alike. I spent my days alone in the library reading stories of ages past when I came upon a book about The Orlesian Occupation." Parean sighed as a slight smile crossed her face. "I was captivated by the depiction of Loghain, the son of a farmer who rose up to become The Hero of River Dane and Teyrn of Gwaren. For the next few months I read everything written about him, trying to discern how I could emulate his strength and bravery in my own life. Admittedly, I developed a strong hero-worship of him."

Maric smiled and nodded, "Many people feel that way about him. It amused me how irritated he would become when someone would fawn over him. _'I hope you're happy. It's because of you that I must endure all of this,'_ he told me once. I laughed and told him how delighted I was over it as it gave me no end of pleasure to see how awkward he became when receiving the accolades of his adoring public. He scowled and said, _'I'm glad that my suffering can provide such amusement for you. I'll be sure to let you know the next time something humiliating happens to me. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your entertainment.'_ " He laughed at the memory, his expression was bittersweet.

Parean smiled inwardly as her attempt to stir up Maric's fond memories of his time with Loghain seemed to be working. "Actually meeting Loghain changed everything for me. I was a babbling fool any time I tried to speak with him. Then when I was charged with healing him at Redcliffe I saw a different side of him. I felt privileged to be allowed to see the private side of his relationship with Anora. It helped me to see him as a human being and not as an object of worship. Over the next few weeks, as I came to know him better, I found my feelings of hero-worship were gone and that I was developing a true affection for him. I've learned so much from him. His inclusion into my Fade dream made it complete at last. Last night, when I chose to end my life, that was the first brave act I had ever done in the real world. I was not fearful of my end as I knew that he would be waiting for me and that we would have an eternity together."

As she ended her story, she realized that tears were rolling down her cheeks. Her mind had been flooded with the memories of her own time with Loghain. The thought of losing him, even just her own image of him, was more than she was willing to bear.

Parean looked into Maric's eyes. "We are happy here," she said simply but firmly. "Why do you insist on trying to deny us that? You are his friend; his brother. Don't you wish to see him happy?"

His hesitation concerned her. _'He's still not giving in. You need to push harder.'_ Her mind recalled something that Loghain had confided in her one night, after consuming far too much wine. She hated herself for descending to this level but she was desperate. 

Parean glowered at Maric, anger building up inside her once again. "Perhaps you do not wish him to be happy. Maybe he was right in that his suffering brings you great entertainment. He has been a loyal and devoted friend to you. He truly looks upon you as his brother. He has sacrificed so much because of the duty he felt he owed to you. You took his father, his friends, his future, even his love."

Maric's pained expression affirmed to Parean that she had, indeed, struck a blow to him. She pressed her advantage. 

"He gave up the woman he loved, the woman you were unfaithful to, out of duty to you. He had to stand by you in silence as you married her and had a child with her. Then, after she passed, he left his wife and child in Gwaren to stay in Denerim with you for two years as you wallowed in self-pity, leaving him to manage the kingdom and raise the son that should have been his, all out of his sense of duty to you." She spat the words at him with all the disdain she could manage.

Parean stared at Maric, her eyes boring into him and disgust carved into her face, "Where is your loyalty and duty to him? Has he not suffered enough, or does it stroke your ego that he is willing to do anything for you? He felt duty bound to sacrifice love and happiness once for you and, it seems, you have deemed it necessary for him to do it again. No, I don't believe you wish him to be truly happy and find love as that would not fit into your own selfish motivations."

Satisfied, she again turned her back to him, "I think you should leave now." Suddenly, she felt a strong hand grab her arm and spin her around. Maric's face was a contortion of anger, rage, disgust and anguish as he held her arms roughly in his hands. His voice came out in a low growl, "Do not presume that you know _anything_ of what has transpired between Loghain, Rowan and I." Realizing that he had lost control of himself, he took a deep breath and relaxed his grip on Parean, but did not release her.

"Of course I wish for Loghain to find happiness," he sighed, "he deserves it more than you will ever know. I am here to help him, the real Loghain in the real world, not your image of him. You have spent so much time in this Fade dream that you have lost touch with the fact that your Loghain is a figment of your imagination."

_'No...that's not true...and even if it is, what does it matter? This is all I have left'_

A movement in the room caught Parean's eye. As she glanced over Maric's shoulder, she saw that Loghain had returned. Fortunately, Maric's back was to Loghain and Parean surmised that he assumed the man with the long blonde hair currently restraining his wife was, in fact, the craftsman's apprentice. She had to act quickly.

"Release me at once!" she shouted, struggling faintly against Maric's grasp. His shocked reaction to her sudden outburst proved to be the distraction she had intended as he did not notice Loghain cross the room in an instant. Before Maric knew what had happened he was spun around and struck solidly across the face by Loghain's powerful right fist. He stumbled back but did not fall. Rubbing his chin, he jokingly quipped, "It certainly has been a long time since you've done that. I can't say that I've missed it."

Loghain stood there, speechless, for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was just above a whisper.

"Maric? Is that really you?" The look of recognition and disbelief in his eyes spoke volumes. He glanced at Parean, "What is the meaning of this, Parean? What is going on?"

 _'Forgive me, my love, for what I'm about to do,'_ Parean thought as she rushed toward Loghain. She grabbed his arm and clung to him like a scared child, a look of panic on her face.

"It is a demon, Loghain, trying to turn me into an abomination! It has taken Maric's form to try and deceive you. Please, my love, don't let it take me!" She buried her face into his arm as her grip tightened.

The jovial expression on Maric's face turned quickly to concern as he watched Loghain draw his sword. "You don't really believe that...do you? Do you doubt your own eyes?" He glanced around the room looking for something to defend himself with but found nothing. Tentatively, he took a step back. "Loghain, you know me better than anyone in Thedas. Can you not tell that I am Maric?"

Loghain's icy blue eyes were cold as steel as he searched the face of the man claiming to be Maric. "You would appear to me to be Maric, yes, and in any other circumstance I would believe you to actually be him, as improbable as that may be. However, since my wife has declared that you are not Maric but a demon in his form, I will trust her judgment as my own may be faulty in this particular instance."

The wave of guilt that swept over Parean was insignificant compared to the ache in her heart at Loghain's words. He trusted her so completely that he was willing to put aside his own assessment of Maric's identity and take her word on faith.

_'What am I doing? How can I do this to him?'_

"Loghain stop! Don't kill him!" Parean grabbed his sword arm as he lifted it to strike. In stunned disbelief, he lowered his sword, bringing a sigh of relief from Maric.

"Parean, what is it? Why did you stop me?" Loghain looked at her with confusion in his eyes.

"Because...I lied. You were right. He is Maric." Her shame was evident on her face. She dropped to her knees before him, sobbing uncontrollably.

_'How ironic...in my desperation to save my Fade Dream, I have done the one thing that is certain to destroy it. The Maker must be enjoying himself immensely right now.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I want to say that I'm not attempting to make suicide seem like a good thing...Parean's viewpoint is, somewhat, skewed in that she feels that her whole purpose in life has been as entertainment fodder for The Maker...she sees ending that life as a way of not only protecting herself from those that wish to harm her but she's also protecting innocent people and those she cares about from herself (ie her uber insane power)...also, she thinks that by dying and refusing to move on past The Fade, she can have what she has been denied in life (ie happiness) while throwing a huge FU to The Maker at the same time..._


	13. In The End, Reality Always Wins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Parean finally explains everything to Loghain._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Just as a side note, if this portrayal of Loghain seems strange, remember that this is the image of Loghain that Parean has created in her Fade world...it doesn't necessarily represent how the Loghain in the waking world would act...also, just in case, there are a couple of not so blatant *spoilers* for The Stolen Throne in this one...even those that have read it may miss them...I included one of them because it has to be one of my favorite scenes in the book..._

**Chapter 13  In The End, Reality Always Wins**

Loghain was dumbstruck. As he looked from Parean to Maric and back again, his normally unreadable expression was gone; replaced with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. His mind was struggling to bring some semblance of order and understanding to the last few moments of chaos.

_'This truly is Maric? How can that be?'_

Loghain stared at him, still not sure whether to believe what he saw before him. Maric saw the questioning look in Loghain's eyes and smiled broadly, "Yes, my friend. It really is me." All uncertainty vanished from Loghain's mind. He would know that look anywhere. As impossible as it may seem, he knew in his heart that this man was Maric.

His sword fell to the ground with a loud **_"clank"_** as he clasped Maric firmly by the shoulders. A massive smile lit up his countenance and the weight of his overwhelming relief and joy at seeing his lost friend filled the room.

_"Maric!"_ Loghain beamed, "You're alive! What happened to you? Where have you been? How is it possible that you are here? Surely I would have received word long before you arrived."

Maric laughed warmly as he returned the gesture, grasping Loghain's shoulders and giving him a friendly shake. "Maker's Breath, Loghain. Had I known that my presence would elicit such a reaction from you, I would have returned sooner!" He slapped Loghain on the back, mischief dancing in his blue eyes, "I didn't know you had it in you."

Loghain retrieved his sword and carefully slid it into the scabbard on his back, "If you prefer, I can strike you again while calling you an idiot for not informing me of your whereabouts. That never ceases to bring me an ample amount of pleasure." 

While Loghain was pre-occupied with Maric, Parean quietly rose from the floor and walked over to her bedside stand. Sadly, she looked around the room, taking one last glimpse of her 'perfect world' that was now crumbling around her. She knew once she explained everything to Loghain, all that would remain were the memories she had created here; memories that were now forever tainted in her mind.

Parean's gaze fell upon the silverite rose resting in its glass case. Her heart ached as she slid her fingers over the etching emblazoned with the words that meant everything to her. She swallowed hard against the ever growing lump in her throat as she read, through bleary tear-stained eyes, the words that had once filled her with such joy

_'I am yours...now and forever...'_

Images splashed through her mind as she briefly re-lived her most cherished moments with Loghain, once a source of pleasure, now only serving to expand upon her self-imposed torment.

_'Our first kiss...under a bright orange moon he unexpectedly confesses his feelings; I melt as he gently touches his soft lips to mine...'_

_'Our betrothal...he gives me a perfect rose; I am lost in his eyes as he sheepishly asks for my hand...'_

_'Our first night together...he is a passionate yet gentle lover; I feel safe in his arms as we consummate our love..._

_'Our wedding...we stare at each other; at that moment, no one else exists but us...'_

A quiet sob escaped her lips, forcing Parean back into the present. She gingerly removed the silverite rose from its case and held it to her heart. Tears poured down her cheeks as she clutched the rose to her chest, her heart aching so intently that she wished for it to cease its beating. 

_'Oblivion would be welcome...Maker's sake, even The Void would be better than living with this agony!'_

She was vaguely aware of Maric mentioning her name in reference to an explanation.

"You haven't answered my questions, Maric. Where have you been and how do you come to be here without anyone taking notice?" Loghain's frustration was growing as he continued to press Maric for answers.

Maric's cheery expression darkened. Loghain saw the glint in his eyes change from mischievous to sympathetic as Maric gestured to Parean with a slight nod of his head. "I'm sorry, Loghain, but you're answers should come from Parean, not me." He rested his hand gently on Loghain's shoulder. "Please, listen to what she has to say before you pass any judgment on her."

_'Oh Maker...please...if you have any compassion, please cast me into The Void this very moment. Do not ask me to do this...'_

Parean's body stiffened when she heard Loghain turn to face her. She felt his icy stare boring into her back; there would be no reprieve for her, no escape from the inevitable. In the next few moments, with only a handful of whispered words, she would destroy her last bastion of happiness.

Loghain's patience had reached its end as he stood there waiting for Parean to finally give him an explanation for all this foolishness. "Parean," Loghain's voice was firm but remarkably controlled, "will you please enlighten me as to what, in the Maker's name, is going on?"

Her heart leapt at the sound of his deep, resonating voice calling her name. She felt a twisting, wrenching pain in the pit of her stomach as she tried to collect herself.

Parean inhaled raggedly, "Loghain," she sighed heavily, "I have something to tell you."

She looked around the room to see her world fading away like the dream it was. She heard Loghain's shocked gasp as everything he knew to be real evaporated before his eyes. Lovingly, she raised the silverite rose and stroked it gently down her cheek. She watched as her perfect rose, given to her by the man she loved so desperately, slowly vanished from her hand.

All that remained was the warped, bleak nothingness of The Fade. The distorted beige landscape, a barren waste devoid of any warmth or beauty, added to the desolation and emptiness inside her. A sudden, stabbing pain exploded in her chest as she crumpled to the floor, her heart broken and her spirit engulfed in an overwhelming anguish.

Loghain watched as Parean wept bitterly, her face buried in her hands. _'Why is she carrying on so?'_ he wondered to himself. He mulled over the idea that this was yet another of her manipulative jests. The thought that she would go to this length just to indulge her irritating fascination with frustrating him...

Infuriated at the very idea, he brushed away Maric's hand and stormed over to her. Crouching down in front of her, he pulled her hands from her face, roughly grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. Parean's face was mottled with crimson blotches. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks as she tried to choke back her sobs. She kept her eyes focused downward, trying to avoid meeting his own.

"Look at me," he growled menacingly.

Her breath came in short gasps in an effort to control her crying enough to speak. 

"No...I...can...n-not" Her words were jagged, barely above a whisper, "pl-ease...don't hate...m-me" Loghain felt her tense as she suddenly burst into frantic sobs and struggled vainly to free herself from his grasp.

"Parean! _Look at me!_ "

Her crying subsided and, slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his. Her normally beautiful clear blue eyes were now sunken and bloodshot; her eye paint smeared beneath her lashes, leaving dark circles under her eyes. When their gazes met at last, Loghain saw the look of pure grief and longing in her eyes and his heart melted.

Gently, he pulled her to her feet and into his embrace. She resisted at first as he held her close to him and slowly rocked her back and forth. "Hush, love," he murmured breathlessly, running his fingers through her soft, silky hair. She began to relax until her body melded against him.

"Tell me; is this another of your overly dramatic attempts to get under my skin?" Even he was surprised at the pleading tone in his voice. "I must say that this is a bit much even for you."

Loghain felt Parean's arms slide around his waist. She was holding on to him as though releasing him would mean her death. She sighed dejectedly, her breath warm on his chest. "No, my love. How I wish for it to be so simple."

He stroked his hand tenderly down her cheek, "Then what is it, beloved? What has you in such a state?"

Parean wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms forever. _'This is how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to be together, here, in my world for all eternity.'_

Reluctantly, she raised her head from his chest and stared into his eyes. His expression was full of concern and she yearned to tell him that this was all just a misunderstanding; a huge mistake.

_'No,'_ she thought, _'he deserves the truth.'_

Parean willed herself to release him, taking a step back, her eyes still locked on his, "Loghain, nothing of our life together has been real."

He looked at her, stunned by her revelation, and scoffed, "Maker's Breath Parean, what do you mean it has not been real. I remember everything that has transpired between us, every feeling that we've shared. This has all been very real to me. Are you saying that you do not feel the same? That you never have?" 

Though he tried to hide it, Parean saw the pain he felt at the very idea that she did not truly love him.

She reached out and caressed his rugged face, "Oh my love, nothing could be further from the truth. Our time together has been precious to me and I love you more than life itself." Only she knew of the irony in her words. "I...misspoke...when I said that it was not real. What we have shared is real; it is the circumstances of our life and the world around us that are not."

Parean turned and walked back to where the image of her bedside stand had been only moments ago. She spread her arms wide, "The reality of it is this; we are in The Fade. More precisely, _I_ am in The Fade and everything that existed here; only images that I made manifest; the objects, sights, sounds...people, all created by me for my 'perfect world'."

"The Fade..." Loghain whispered the words as if he were speaking them for the first time. "You say that only you are in The Fade, but I am here as well."

She turned to face him once again, a sad smile crossing her lips, "You are an...image...of the Loghain in the waking world. You are _my_ image of him that I have refined as I came to know him better."

"So, this is a dream...your dream...is that what you would have me believe?" Loghain was incredulous of the concept, "and that _I am not real_?"

"This was to be my eternity; an eternity of happiness and joy, here, with you." She braced herself, unsure of his reaction to what was coming next. "The 'Parean' you see before you is not an image of my sleeping mind, Loghain, it is my spirit. In the waking world, I am dead."

_"Dead?!?"_ She saw anger and grief flash in his icy blue eyes as the thought of her being injured or killed settled in his mind. "If you are truly...dead...in the waking world, then you must be mistaken about my presence. I must also be a spirit as I would gladly give my life to protect you or to punish anyone that brought harm to you."

Parean felt her heart racing as a familiar rush of warm emotions flooded her mind and body. In her world, he was her protector; her staunch defender. He would never allow anything or anyone to hurt her and she loved him for that, but it also made it even more difficult for her to explain the cause of her death.

"You are very much alive in the waking world, Loghain. Only I am dead; brought about by my own hand." She waited anxiously for his reaction.

"You took your own life? What would cause you to resort to such an act?" Loghain's tone was coolly neutral, his face a mask of stone.

Parean recounted the details of the events that lead to her demise, beginning with the run-in with the templars and ending with the telling of how she came to be in the Circle and her encounter with Ser Alrik. Loghain remained silent as she concluded her explanation.

"Don't you understand? I had to do it to protect all of you. I am far too dangerous to live in the waking world. Here, I am a normal mage. There, if I am not constantly in control of my emotions, I can cause incredible damage. Neither you nor Alistair or Morrigan would do what had to be done so I took matters into my own hands." Parean's voice pleaded with Loghain to understand; to see that she had no other choice.

When Loghain finally spoke, his words caused her blood to run cold, "No Parean, I do not understand why you felt that suicide was the only answer. By your own account, we had all sworn to protect you. There was no need to waste your life in such a way."

"In the few weeks that we were together, you taught me about bravery and self-sacrifice. Ending my life was my first and last act of bravery. I sacrificed myself to protect all of you." She was confused by Loghain's reaction to her decision. "It was because of you that I found the courage to do it. I knew that death was not to be feared as you would be waiting for me in The Fade and we would be together forever."

The pride she felt in performing what she considered to be her first brave act turned to shame when she saw the look of horror and disdain in Loghain's eyes.

"Bravery? Courage? You dare speak those words in relation to what you have done?" His words cut through to her very soul; the contempt in every syllable searing into her heart and mind. "You cannot honestly believe that your act of suicide was brave? Indeed, it takes great bravery and courage to willingly sacrifice yourself for others in the face of a real threat. Parean, your so-called threat was imagined! Killing yourself was an act of cowardice. You were running away from the harsh realities of your life to hide in your Fade world. There is no bravery or honor in that."

Parean was at a loss for words. She stood there, staring at him, unable to comprehend his words; her mind was spinning.

_'He despises me now...I have dishonored myself in his eyes...not only have I lost my last chance at happiness, but I must now go to The Void knowing that I have lost his love...'_

She felt something building inside of her. At first she was unable to identify the feeling but it quickly became apparent; a burning, seething rage. Suddenly she was filled with the desire to destroy the object of her torment. Her hands began to smolder, smoke billowing from them as they burst into flames. Casting a malevolent gaze toward the sky, Parean let out a blood-curdling scream followed by a stream of curses directed toward The Maker that caused both Maric and Loghain to feel ill-at-ease. Suddenly her hands shot up over her head and two small pillars of fire launched into the air.

"Parean! Stop! What has come over you?" Loghain's shouts were lost to her as she continued her mad pursuit to destroy The Maker.

"Parean!" Loghain shouted again, this time stepping forward and reaching for his enraged wife.

Maric grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "No Loghain! In this state, she may destroy you without even knowing it!"

"She will not harm me." Loghain freed himself from Maric's grasp and slowly approached Parean. The heat radiating from her body was intense as he reached out and gently took hold of her arm. "Parean, stop this before you hurt yourself."

The touch of his hand on her arm stirred her mind back to reality. The pillars of fire dissipated and she dropped her arms to her sides, panting heavily.

"Maker's Breath Parean, what were you trying to accomplish with that little stunt?" Loghain studied her face and what he saw in her eyes chilled him to his core.

_"The Maker..._ she spat, "The Maker has done nothing but torment me for my entire life. I cannot escape his torture even in death." Though her words were full of scorn and blasphemy, he understood her anger.

"Losing control and blasting fire into the sky is not going to solve that issue." His attempt to help her see reason left him unprepared for her unexpected reaction.

She looked at him, her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed into slits. "You're right, of course. I should deal with the catalyst for this current change in my situation." She turned and leveled a murderous gaze squarely on Maric.

"You..." she hissed, her voice cold and harsh, "it is because of you that I have lost everything. You came here, telling me to leave this place. _You have ruined everything!"_

Parean raised her hand, pointing it straight at Maric's chest. Smoke once again began billowing from her fingers as a large fireball took shape in front of her. Before she had an opportunity to cast the fireball, Loghain came from behind and wrapped his arms around her, breaking her spell.

"Parean, you must regain control of your senses!" Loghain's tone was firm yet soothing. She visibly relaxed somewhat in his embrace but continued to glare at Maric.

"He wants me to leave you, Loghain. That is why he is here." She felt his breath brush past her ear; his obvious relief that she had returned to some semblance of sanity.

Loghain looked questioningly at Maric, "Is this true, Maric? You were trying to convince her to leave?"

"Yes, Loghain. She needs to return to the waking world." Maric looked sympathetically at his old friend. The anguish he felt over, yet again, causing Loghain pain was evident on his face.

"I see...And why is this necessary?" 

"Because you need her aid to defeat The Blight."

Loghain considered this for a moment. "But I thought that Grey Wardens were needed to end a Blight?"

Parean interjected, "You, Alistair and I are all Grey Wardens, my love."

He was taken aback by her comment, "Me? A Grey Warden? Why would I ever agree to such a thing?"

As he mulled over this new information, his arms relaxed and Parean moved out of his grasp, turning to face him. "Because you were given no choice. You are an experienced leader of armies, an extraordinary strategist, a man of great influence and a hero to the people of Ferelden. As a reward for serving your country, you were conscripted against your will into the Grey Wardens. Now you will spend what remains of your shortened life fighting darkspawn until the time comes for you to enter The Deep Roads alone to die." The contempt she felt for what Riordan had done to Loghain was palpable.

"Ah..." was his only response.

Silence stretched out into several long minutes as Loghain absorbed what he had learned. When he finally spoke, his words were heavy and sorrowful, "You must return, Parean. We have a duty to perform and Ferelden must be protected." 

He gazed into her eyes with a look that made the reality of The Fade recede and, for that moment, only they existed.

"I can think of no one else that I would rather have at my side, beloved." His tone was soft and loving but tinged with sadness.

She wrapped her arms around him, burying her head in his shoulder as her tears began to flow. "I'm sorry, Loghain, but I cannot go back. That is what I was trying to tell Maric. I have been dead for too long."

Maric placed a hand on her shoulder, "You can return but you must be willing. Listen, Morrigan is calling to your spirit."

Parean strained to hear any trace of Morrigan's voice but heard only the same, incessant wind that had been whistling through the manner. "I told you before; I hear nothing but the wind." She looked up at Loghain, "Even if I could return, I will not leave you, I cannot." She rested her head on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart, "I only wish to stay here with you, like this, forever."

Loghain held her close, laying his head on top of her head, "As do I, love, but we will be together in the waking world as well." He gave her a reassuring squeeze, "and once we have ended The Blight, we can resume our life together."

"And that is why I cannot go back Loghain. We are not together in the waking world. You are my commander and you see me only as one of your soldiers and a comrade, perhaps a friend but nothing more. I can't go back to loving you from a distance. Please, I do not wish to lose what we have here." She turned her head to face him; her eyes begging him to reconsider what he was asking of her.

He softly cupped her chin; his thumb gently stroking her cheek, wiping away her tears, "All the more reason for you to return. You need to make that Loghain realize that he has been a blind fool."

Parean knew that there was no dissuading him from his decision. "Is this truly what you wish?" Her words were filled with resignation as she already knew his answer.

Loghain slid his hand behind her head, bringing her face a hairsbreadth from his, "No, beloved, but it is what must be." 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, entangling her fingers in his thick mane of black hair. "Then, for you my love, I will try to return."

Her heart began to race as he lowered his lips to hers. As their kiss deepened, it was filled with an intense sense of urgency and sorrow; they both knew that this would be their last moment together.

Reluctantly, they ended their kiss. Parean placed her forehead on his chest as she slid her hands down to cradle his face. She was surprised when she felt the dampness on his cheeks. When she looked up at him she saw that his eyes were brimming with tears that had quietly spilled down his face, and her heart sank.


	14. The Prodigal Mage Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This is Parean's return to the waking world from her POV then from Loghain's POV..._

**Chapter 14  The Prodigal Mage Returns**

_"Parean!"_

Darkness, cold and empty, was all around her. Black and desolate surroundings greeted her at every turn.

_'What a perfect metaphor for my life,'_ she sighed solemnly. 

_"Parean!"_

Morrigan was calling her name, repeatedly, incessantly. The wailing wind she kept hearing had been, in reality, Morrigan's voice and her spirit was now seeking it out like a beacon. As she wandered through the nothingness, she couldn't suppress a melancholic chuckle as she reflected on the irony of her situation.

_'I am, quite literally, coming back to life and yet, to me, it feels as though my life is over.'_

Irony seemed to define her life as of late.

_"Parean!"_

Morrigan's disembodied voice was becoming louder. She was getting closer to the source; closer to returning to... 

_'What...'_ she wondered. _'What will I return to? How is she even able to revive me? No magic I've ever heard of is capable of rejuvenating the dead past, at most, an hour's time. Will my body even function properly or will I be under Morrigan's control; a thrall to be used at her whim? Does Morrigan want the ability to unleash my full power whenever she desires?'_

She roughly shook her head, dispelling the thought from her mind, _'No! Morrigan is my friend, my sister; she would not treat me such.'_ Even still, the possibility of it, given Morrigan's jealousy of her power, weighed heavily on her mind. _'Even if it were true, Loghain would not allow her to control my power. He would strike down my body or Morrigan herself to prevent it.'_ Strangely, the idea of Loghain destroying her filled her with a sense of relief.

_'If I am to die, I would wish it to be by his hand.'_ A sad smile touched her lips as she thought of Loghain.

_"Parean!"_

"Oh, for the love of the Maker and his bride Andraste, why does she have to keep droning on like that?!?! At this point, if I never hear my name spoken again I will be exceedingly happy!" Her frustration was growing the closer she came to the waking world.

"Loghain..." she murmured breathlessly; her thoughts returning to him, his name falling from her lips as naturally as her own. She felt the now all too familiar twisting of her insides at the thought of what awaited her when she awoke and saw him again. The real Loghain, the Loghain that did not love her, the Loghain that saw her as a companion, albeit an expendable one.

_'Will he react the same as my Loghain? Will he also condemn my act as cowardice?'_ Somehow she knew it would be harder to bear a similar reaction as his rebuke would not be tempered with love and affection. _'How am I going to explain my reasoning for all of this? What am I going to tell him, or any of them?'_ She certainly could not tell them the whole truth of the matter, so she decided to say nothing more than necessary.

_"Parean!"_

Parean stopped abruptly. She had reached the source at last. Morrigan's energy was faint but definitely present in this place. Parean felt the pull of her body on her spirit, attempting to draw it closer in an effort to re-join the two entities. 

Suddenly she retreated a few steps, _'No! I cannot...I will not do this!'_ She turned to stare into the blackness behind her, _'I must find my way back to him, beg him to reconsider this foolishness. We belong together...we deserve our happiness...'_

_"You must return, Parean. We have a duty to perform and Ferelden must be protected."_ Loghain's words drifted through her mind, as vibrant as if he were there, speaking them to her at that very moment.

She cursed at the memory, screaming into the darkness, "Damn you, Loghain Mac Tir! You are so bound to duty and honor that you deny yourself any sodding happiness! Why must it always be you and those you love who sacrifice everything for Ferelden?" Tears were streaming down her face as she continued to shout into the emptiness, "Look at what 'doing your duty' has brought you, nothing but heartache and loneliness! And now, it has shortened what is left of your life as well!"

Parean fell to her knees as her anger subsided. She wanted so badly to hate him for his loyalty to his duty and his country but she only loved him more. _'His loyalty also extends to those fortunate enough to get close to him. He would do anything for them; sacrifice his own desires, his own life, to see them protected.'_ Her mind reminded her that she must hold on to that thought.

_"You need to make that Loghain realize that he has been a blind fool."_

She chuckled at the very idea. _'How I'm supposed to accomplish that miracle I'm sure I don't know.'_

Slowly Parean stood up and absentmindedly dusted herself off. He had not wanted her to leave but felt that it was necessary. She would honor his decision even if it meant that she would never feel his touch again.

_"Parean! You fool! Can you not hear me calling? You will re-join your spirit with your body this instant! I tire of waiting and I've no desire to continue chanting your name. I've already done so overlong as it is."_ Morrigan's voice was brimming with exasperation. She sounded weary and even a bit dismayed.

Parean snickered as she stepped toward Morrigan's voice, "Yes Morrigan, I hear you. I'm glad to see that the sound of my name is as annoying to you as it is to me," she quipped sarcastically. "It would be greatly appreciated if you can hold out for just alittle longer. I wish to re-visit the memory of my last moment with Loghain one final time."

She felt a sudden surge of warmth flow through her, much like the sensation of blood returning to a previously occluded limb. As the feeling intensified, she closed her eyes and returned to her last moment with him. His look holds a mingling of love and sorrow in those piercing, icy blue eyes. His hand moves to her head, drawing her face closer to his own.

She unexpectedly gasped softly, _'Odd that I can feel his touch so strongly. I've never had a memory that seemed so real.'_ She would swear that his hand was actually touching her, brushing her hair from her face and then lifting her head. _'It must be due to this being such a recent happening,'_ she concluded and continued on with her memory.

She can smell the scent of his favorite Jasmine tea on his breath as his lips gently press against hers. In her mind she can see her arms wrap around his neck, her fingers entwined in his thick black hair. She can feel her heart pounding, the blood rushing through her body, her mind racing and her body aching with desire for him. Her spirit re-entering her body went unnoticed as she reveled in the euphoria she was very vividly experiencing.

_'Maker's breath...so real...like he is here, in my arms again...'_ she thought, her mind a blur of confusion, excitement, longing, love and desire. Parean was completely lost in the moment; giving herself over to the sensations. She felt her arms rise up as if to place them around his neck, her lips pucker to return his kiss and her body arch to press against him. A soft moan of pleasure escaped her lips and she gave no thought to how ridiculous she must have looked, holding onto and kissing the air; everything felt so real, so right.

_'He smells of freshly cut wood and his lips taste salty from sweating. He must have been out collecting firewood for the fireplace.'_ As her mind tried to make sense of it all, her imagination took control. She was with him in their private chambers in Gwaren. She lay on their fur rug, her head and chest lying gently across his lap as he knelt beside her, locked in a passionate kiss. _'Something's not right...'_ she thought as her arms brushed against the heavyplate shoulder guards of his armor, _'he is wearing his armor...why would he...'_

Parean's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden tugging on her arms. Her sharp gasp was muffled by something covering her mouth. Her eyes flew open to see Loghain's surprised look as he struggled to free himself from her grasp without injuring her. His mouth was pressed tightly against hers; her head and chest lay propped up across his lap. Shocked and disoriented, Parean's arms immediately fell away from his neck and she sat up, frantically looking around to get her bearings.

###########################

"Set the wood down over there, Alistair." Loghain nodded in the direction of a small clearing near their camp, his arms weighed down with several branches. "That is where we will build her pyre."

They walked in silence to the clearing and deposited their burden onto the ground. Loghain noticed the area as he was gathering wood for the pyre. He reasoned that it would be the best location since it was close to their camp and had space enough for the pyre without endangering the surrounding forest. 

Standing now in the center of what was actually a small glade, he was even more certain that this was the perfect place. It was peaceful, serene and well-secluded. The dawn's rising sun was casting a fiery red glow across the sky as the first golden rays of light were breaking through the trees, shining down on the soft patch of flowing grass. As the sun beams glistened off of the small, round droplets of dew that covered the forest greenery, the entire glade seemed to sparkle.

Loghain imagined it would make an ideal place for young lovers to rendezvous; lying together in the moonlight on the cool grass, gazing out over the shimmering waters of Lake Calenhad. He breathed in deeply the abundant floral scents that wafted through the air, noticing one in particular above all the others. He looked around and spied the source; a bush full of blooming red roses. The romantic aspects of this area were plentiful and undeniable.

Loghain walked to the edge of the glade and looked across the lake, awed by the sight before his eyes. Mist was sliding seductively over the surface of Lake Calenhad and onto the shore, creating a mystical, dreamlike atmosphere. In the distance, the Circle of Magi loomed, silent and menacing, the mist swirling around at its base. Loghain's thoughts drifted back to a story his mother would tell him of a beautiful princess locked away in a tower. She was trapped in an enchanted slumber and only the kiss of her true love could break the curse. His mother would look at him and smile lovingly, as he scoffed and proclaimed the whole notion unrealistic. She could see that, in his heart, he longed for the story to be true.

Loghain sighed ruefully, _'It was leaving her tower that brought this princess to her doom. I'm sorry mother, but there's no 'true love's kiss' that will restore her.'_

He took one last look at the view, a slight smile touching his lips, _'Yes, this is the perfect place to lay Parean to rest. She would have thought it breathtakingly beautiful,'_ he thought with more than a hint of sadness, _'almost as beautiful as she.'_ Loghain's heart was heavy as he longed to share this moment with her; to see her radiant, gentle smile once more. Try as he might to rationalize his feelings to himself, seeing her lying there, lifeless, with such a serene look upon her lovely face caused him to face the reality of what he already knew; he had fallen for her.

_'If only this were another time; and I, a much younger man,'_ he mused wistfully.

"Are you alright?" Alistair placed a hand on Loghain's shoulder, rousing him from his thoughts.

"Of course. Why do you ask?" Worried that his expression had betrayed his thoughts, he silently berated himself for becoming so engrossed with his foolish imaginings.

"I asked you about the pyre but you didn't respond. I thought you had not heard me so I tried to get your attention and noticed that you had a far-away look in your eyes and your expression was quite intense, even for you." Alistair smiled mischievously, "No matter, I see that your normal scowl has returned so all is well."

"What about the pyre?" Loghain was more than happy to change the subject. He turned and began walking toward the camp with Alistair following suit behind him.

"I was curious as to why you thought to give her one." Alistair didn't notice Loghain's abrupt stop until it was too late. Letting out a painful grunt as he made contact with Loghain's armor he called out, "Hey! How about a little warning if you plan to stop like that!" Loghain turned and stared at him with an incredulous look, his eyes flashing momentarily with what Alistair thought was anger, before his expression hardened into a stony mask.

Loghain could not believe what he was hearing, "Is that a serious question? Do you think she doesn't deserve to be seen to The Maker?"

"No, that's not what I meant," Alistair stammered, "it's just that the Chantry teaches that mages are cursed by The Maker so they are not given pyres." He glanced sidelong at Loghain, "Besides, your...distaste...for mages is well-known. It is surprising that you would be the one to suggest a proper funeral pyre for her."

"Parean is...was...no ordinary mage," Loghain forced his tone to remain flat and neutral, "she had proven herself a valuable ally. She was a woman worthy of knowing; a skilled fighter and an exceptionally talented healer. As our sister in the Grey, she deserves the same respect in death that would be shown to any other Grey Warden."

Alistair paused for a few moments, reflecting on Loghain's comments. Loghain was growing increasing agitated with Alistair's silence, "Perchance this is 'Ser Alistair' the Templar speaking? I suppose you'd prefer that we give her the customary burial for a mage and throw her weighted-down body into Lake Calenhad, or perhaps just leave her in the woods for the wild creatures to devour?" Even though he showed no outwardly sign, the thought of her exquisitely beautiful blue eyes being pecked out by birds and her soft, delicate skin being ripped from her body by wolves or the vile creatures inhibiting the lake tore at his heart.

An expression of horror came over Alistair as Loghain's words painted ghastly images in his mind, "Maker's Breath! How can you even think that? Worse yet, how can you be so cavalier about it?" His voice was thick with emotion, "You must know what would happen to her if..." His throat constricted, choking off his words as an image of Parean's body being torn apart burst into his mind. Another thought occurred to Alistair causing him to sneer at Loghain, disgust burning in his eyes, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he hissed through clenched teeth, "it is, after all, the fate you so blithely chose for Duncan." His unresolved contempt for Loghain permeated every word, "Your reputation for being a cold, unfeeling, heartless bastard is well-deserved."

Loghain's hard expression never wavered, "There was nothing that could be done for those lost at Ostagar without endangering our few remaining soldiers so yes; I left them there. If we were in a similar situation here, I would do exactly the same." He knew that to be a lie. He would, in reality, fight by her side till his last breath. "I am a practical man," he stated bluntly, not sure if it was meant to convince Alistair or himself, "if we do not give Parean a pyre then those are the only other alternatives."

"I was not arguing against giving her a pyre, all I meant was...I mean...I just..." Alistair breathed in deeply and sighed, "I think I'll just shut up now."

"An excellent idea. One you should employ more often. Next time, try thinking about what meaning you wish to convey _before_ you speak." Loghain's admonishment had the desired effect as Alistair lowered his head dejectedly.

Alistair remained silent as they resumed walking toward the camp. Loghain used the time to try and pinpoint a viable reason for Parean's action. _'Why would she take her own life? What was she thinking?'_ Images of Parean on her knees with tears streaming down her face, begging each of them to kill her, flashed in his mind. _'Has it truly only been a day since that happened? It seems like a lifetime ago.'_ Her reasoning became clear to him. _'This was her ridiculous idea of protecting us,'_ he surmised irritably.

When they finally reached the camp, Loghain's eyes, as was normally the case, were drawn to Parean's tent. It was a large structure, capable of housing four adults comfortably. He had originally planned for Parean and Morrigan to share the large tent while he and Alistair occupied the smaller one-person tents. Morrigan rejected the idea, however, preferring to sleep in the open with only a small lean-to for protection. As they approached, Loghain noticed that the sides of the tent were billowing. He was surprised to hear Morrigan's exasperated shout coming from inside.

_"Parean! You fool! Can you not hear me calling? You will re-join your spirit with your body this instant! I tire of waiting and I've no desire to continue chanting your name. I've already done so overlong as it is."_

Loghain and Alistair exchanged curious glances then rushed into the tent. Morrigan stood to the right of Parean's motionless body, glaring intensely at the young mage's ashen face. Her hands swirled gracefully around in the air as she manipulated a large pool of red liquid, twisting it in rhythm with her movements. Loghain caught a glimpse of several cuts on her arms.

_"Blood magic!_ What, in the name of Andraste, are you doing?" Loghain was rooted to the spot, his gaze transfixed on Morrigan.

She barely gave him any notice, continuing to work her spell over Parean's still form, "Attempting to awaken her," she muttered, "but her spirit is resisting. If you would prefer to carry out your plans to sacrifice her to your god, I can cease my spell this moment."

Seething, Loghain drew his sword and directed it toward Morrigan, "Awaken her? For what? Out of the goodness of your heart? Hardly. You mean to raise her body as thrall to your every command. You only want her power and I'll see you both dead before that happens!" He could not bear the thought of seeing Parean as a walking corpse under the control of the marsh witch.

Morrigan was unmoved, "Twould be a fine idea indeed, if that were my intention. Such is not the case, however, and she shall be as she was." Morrigan's haunting yellow eyes went blank for a few moments as the whirling collection of bright red blood droplets dissipated. She let out a satisfied sigh, "Finally! Her spirit is returning and her heart beats again." Her hands continued to move effortlessly in the air over Parean's body as Loghain re-sheathed his sword.

"You're not just going to let her do this, are you?" Alistair stepped forward, eyeing Morrigan suspiciously; ready to smite her the instant Loghain commanded it.

"Stop, Alistair. We will wait and see what comes of this. We need Parean and if she can be restored to her formal self then all the better. If not, then we will strike them both down." Loghain uttered the comment mindlessly as he could not take his eyes off of Parean. He watched with great relief as the color began to slowly return to her pale skin. He waited for her chest to rise and fall as she took her first breath but it never moved. Her lips, still bearing a slight, serene smile, remained their purplish blue hue.

"Something must be wrong, Morrigan. She is not breathingyou have to do something!" Alistair's concern mimicked Loghain's own as he voiced the words that Loghain would not allow himself to express.

"Fool! She has been dead for several hours and it has taken almost all of my own energy just to get her to this state. Do you think it easy to restore someone to life? That I have but to wave my hand and she would spring back to life?" Morrigan was drained from the effort it took to maintain her spell for so long and had no patience for the ignorance of others.

"What does it matter what I think or don't think, we need to do something!" Alistair was getting more worried by the moment.

Morrigan sighed wearily, "Since I must maintain the spell to keep her heart beating, one of you dolts will need to breathe life into her."

Alistair looked at her quizzically, "Breathe life into her? How are we to do that?"

_'Gods, he truly is a drooling moron.'_ Morrigan's response to him was slow and deliberate, as one who was speaking to a small child, "You place your mouth over her mouth and force air into her body. At some point this should cause her lungs to function once again."

Shocked, Alistair stood there, his mouth agape and his ears and cheeks burning from the intensity of his blush, "I can't do that! No way!"

"You can and you shall," Loghain's authoritative voice penetrated Alistair's stupor. "If this will save Parean's life then you will do it! It is my command."

"But I can't...I just...I've never even..." Alistair nervously stumbled over his words. His own breathing began to rapidly increase as panic set in. "Why don't you do it?" He gave Loghain a questioning glance.

Loghain's own heart skipped a beat at the thought, "I am her commanding officer..."

"All the more reason for you to save her. You're the 'hero' here. Isn't that what 'heroes' do? Go around saving people?" Alistair was growing pale and looked as though he may faint.

"It would be inappropriate for me to..." Loghain began but was quickly interrupted by Morrigan.

"I cannot sustain the spell for much longer. One of you _must_ do it now!" Her arms were growing heavy and her body felt weak as she struggled to keep Parean's heart beating. She closed her eyes, deepening her concentration.

"Alright, I will do it." Loghain was careful to keep his voice even and his expression neutral. "Alistair, go and prepare the pyre in case we fail to revive her." He watched briefly as Alistair left the tent.

He concentrated on slowing his heartbeat as he removed his gauntlets and knelt down beside Parean. _'It will do her no good if you become light-headed and pass out,'_ his mind chided him.

Loghain looked down at Parean, his gaze softening and a tender smile touching his lips, _'Even in death, she is a vision.'_ He wondered what her last thought had been to give her such a peaceful look as he absentmindedly brushed her hair from her face. Gently, he raised her head and chest to rest them across his lap. Resting his hand on her cheek, he used his thumb to carefully open her mouth. Slowly and somewhat awkwardly, he breathed in deeply and he placed his lips against hers, blowing air into her mouth. _'I do hope she doesn't mind the scent of Jasmine Tea,'_ he quipped to himself, _'had I known that this was in my future, I would have refrained from drinking it this morning.'_

He continued to breathe into her, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling into her mouth. After several breaths, her lips and skin began to feel warmer to his touch. Loghain was struggling against his desire to lose himself in the moment; breathing in her scent that lingered still on her bedroll, the feel of her smooth, silky skin on his hand, the touch of her soft lips against his was almost too much for him to bear. His mind was thrown into a confusion of conflicting feelings; he wanted it to end and yet he also wanted it to last forever. Gathering what little control he had remaining, he forced himself to resist the urge to embrace her and focused on his task.

Loghain started as Parean began to stir slightly, her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and her fingers entwining themselves in his hair. He shuddered almost imperceptively as he felt her lips respond to his and her body arch upward. His hand reflexively caressed her cheek as his free hand reached up to stroke her hair. Loghain's resolve crumbled as he willingly gave in to the sensations and kissed her deeply. His tongue gently traced her lips, and as she pulled him closer, their tongues intertwined, hungrily exploring each other. Excitement and tension were building inside of him at a feverish rate and he smiled against her lips as she moaned softly into his mouth...

_'Maker's sake, are you mad? What are you doing? Regain control of yourself man!'_ Loghain's mind jolted back to reality with all the shock of being thrown into an icy lake. He tried to lift his mouth from Parean's but she was firming holding him in place. Reaching up and taking hold of her arms, he began gently tugging on them, trying to free himself without causing any injury to her. Loghain felt her arms brush against his shoulder guards and he was surprised when Parean suddenly gasped and her eyes flew open. Obviously disoriented, she quickly dropped her arms from around his neck and sat up, frantically searching her surroundings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Yes, I love fairytales...Sleeping Beauty in particular...my Loghain is a frustrated closet romantic...sigh_
> 
> _Hopefully, everyone has made it this far and there's no one screaming, "Loghain would never do that!"...just remember that alot of this is going on in his head, with no outward expression of it...and the kissing part wasn't seen by anyone as Alistair was preparing the pyre and Morrigan had her eyes closed, deep in concentration..._


	15. Reunions and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Parean's not-so-warm welcome back to the waking world._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I've been torturing Parean pretty bad so now, it's Loghain's turn in the hot seat...on the up side, Parean is finally starting to find her backbone..._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Parean mentions her two close friends from the Circle, Eira and Muirne...Eira is my niece's elven mage and Muirne is Morninglight's mage from her Amell/Cullen story "For the Good of the Circle"...Thanks go out to Morninglight for allowing Parean to play with Loghain in her story "A Diamond in Dust Town"..._

**Chapter 15  Reunions and Revelations**

_'She lives!'_

Loghain could scarcely believe his eyes; had he not witnessed the event for himself, he would never have believed it even possible. She had been lost to them, her body cold and lifeless only moments ago and now, Parean was alive; confused and disoriented, but alive.

He watched her intently; her eyes wide and wildly darting around, anxiously surveying her surroundings. She was looking at Morrigan, staring at her as if she were a trespassing stranger. Morrigan took no notice of her, however. Once Parean awoke and the spell was broken, she crumpled to the ground from sheer exhaustion and blood loss. Loghain surmised that she was more concerned with gathering enough strength to retrieve the elfroot from her pouch than dealing with Parean's assimilation back into the living world.

As if on command, both Loghain and Parean turned to face each other and their gazes locked. He watched as the look of fear and panic that played across her face melted away and her sky blue eyes softened. The serene and peaceful expression she held in death had returned. Her soft lips curved up to form the slightly awkward but gentle smile that he had grown so fond of and his heart leaped at the sight. The stiffness of her carriage began to drain away; her body visibly relaxing as she tenderly placed her hand on his.

"Loghain..." Parean softly breathed his name, her voice barely above a dry, raspy whisper. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with joy and contentment.

Loghain was captivated by the warmth radiating from her beautiful countenance. Staring into her strikingly bright blue eyes, he felt himself being drawn to her; the feel of her lips against his and the emotions that brief moment of passion aroused still fresh in his mind. He sat there looking at her, his mind whirling, his feelings running the gamut between wanting to take her in his arms and swear that nothing would harm her as long as he drew breath to shaking her violently while demanding she explain what the bloody hell possessed her to take her own life.

_'What is this hold she has over me?'_ His mind contemplated the thought but, truth be told, he didn't care.

At that moment, no one else existed. She was his sole focus, the only person in all of Thedas that mattered, and he wanted desperately to express how he felt; to tell her what she had come to mean to him and how she stirred emotions that he thought were buried long ago.

_'To what end? Such flights of fancy benefit no one. You are the Ferelden Commander of the Grey; you have a duty to see this land saved from the Blight and your duty must always come first, above all else. Honor dictates that you cease this nonsensical thinking immediately before it begins to cloud your judgment!'_

His well-developed and iron-fisted control over his demeanor had returned with a vengeance. Overcompensating for his earlier moment of weakness as well as his current emotional state, his body language became more rigid and restrained than normal; his features completely unreadable. Parean had taken to calling it his "General's persona", and it was in full evidence, betraying nothing of the inner turmoil he was experiencing. Outwardly, he was every inch the cold, unfeeling, heartless bastard that most considered him to be.

"Parean," he began, his rich baritone voice flat and emotionless, his icy blue eyes hard as steel, "Are you all right? Do you know where you are?"

Still barely able to utter a sound above a dry rasp, Parean simply nodded her head in acknowledgement. 

Loghain looked to Morrigan who was now sitting on the ground eating pieces of elfroot. "Morrigan, are you fit enough to attend to her?"

Morrigan glared at Loghain, "Have I not done enough? I have already returned her to life, at great risk to my own. Tis apparent that I am to disregard the fact that I, myself, am in need of aid to become her caretaker as well."

Loghain's expression never faltered, "Obviously your strength is returning. I have every confidence that you will be able to see to her needs. I shall leave you to it."

Loghain hurriedly stood up; his only thought was to leave as quickly as possible. He needed time alone to regain his composure and he knew that the longer he remained, the more likely it was he would say or do something regrettable.

Parean tightened her grip on his hand, halting his escape. Her eyes pleaded with him to stay and his heart melted. He wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through that obsessively tucked hair of hers, to draw her into his embrace and comfort her, to once again feel the softness of her cheek on his hand as he slowly and gently touched his lips to hers...

"Twould seem that she wishes you to remain." Morrigan's smug tone grated through Loghain's mind, forcing his thoughts back to the matter at hand. "Why do you not tend to her yourself? Tis clear that she would prefer it."

Without thinking, Loghain retorted, "As we will most assuredly be remaining here for another night, I have more important matters to attend to."

Morrigan leveled a sarcastic grin at Loghain, "More important than seeing to the needs of your fellow Grey Warden? I would expect you to be eager to aid one who is supposed to be your sister in the Grey. Your lack of concern for her welfare is most disturbing."

"Had she not chosen to take her own life, there would be no cause for concern and no need for any healing or aid to be administered. As it is, we are now delayed for yet another day. This whole matter has done nothing but waste what precious little time we have to gather our allies and make preparations for battling the Archdemon." Loghain scoffed, his tone becoming increasingly harsh as his irritation with Morrigan grew.

Morrigan's expression beamed and her smile became more malevolent, "Apparently twas unkind of me to restore her to life after all. Mayhap I should have left her to The Void. Better that she perished believing that she was protecting those she cared about and remain unaware that the feeling, for some, is not mutual."

Loghain could not contain his frustration at Morrigan's taunts any longer, "Enough! I have done my part as you have asked. She is your charge and, like it or not, _you_ now bear the burden of responsibility for her care. You will verify that your spell has had no ill effects and that she truly remains as she was before. If she is not then you will dispose of her at once and inform me when it is done. If I find that she has become thrall to your whims, I will strike you both down myself. Do not bother me with your foolish ravings any longer as I have neither the time nor the desire to hear any more of it!"

_'Maker's Breath! What am I saying?'_ He cursed himself for allowing Morrigan to rattle him and for speaking so callously about Parean. _'What was I thinking, going on in that manner? How must that have sounded to her...what must she think?'_ He did not have long to wait for his answer.

Parean's grip on his hand loosened, her hand sliding down and landing heavily in her lap. Loghain's heart sank as he turned to see the warm, radiant look that graced her delicate features only moments ago was now twisted into the same expression of anguish and self-loathing from the previous evening. Her eyes held a sad emptiness beyond anything he had seen in them before. Tears welled in her eyes, a few meager drops spilling down her cheeks, the dry rasp in her throat making the sound of her weeping all the more heart-wrenching. He watched as she slowly lowered her head and quietly curled up on her bedroll, burying her face in the pillow.

Loghain sighed heavily, _'What's done is done.'_ He could do nothing to remedy the situation at the present moment; the damage had already been done. _'Leave now, before you make things worse.'_ He turned and left Parean's tent without another word, cursing himself a fool for causing her more pain.

_'A burden...he sees my presence, my very existence as...a burden...'_

The words echoed through Parean's mind, over and over, torturing her with the idea that the man she loved, the one for whom she had given up everything to return to, saw her as nothing more than an encumbrance. An unwanted responsibility that, it would seem, he was more than happy to delegate to someone else. The pain and anguish she felt was beyond any she had ever experienced and she was overwhelmed with a sense of emptiness and loss.

_'I don't understand...I thought...he seemed to be warming up to me as of late...'_ Parean's thoughts whirled as memories of the past few weeks flooded her mind. _'He even confided in me about Rowan and Celia...of course, he was deep in the drink at the time but...still, it's not like him to be that open about intimate matter...she wouldn't do that unless he looked to me as a friend...would he?'_ She was grasping at straws, desperately trying to convince herself that she meant something, _anything_ , more to him than just another soldier.

_'No more wallowing in self-pity over what is done. It is long past time to accept your life for what it is and move on. Use these experiences to shape your future course.'_ Parean's mind snapped her thoughts back to the present. Her blood ran cold as the emptiness she felt consumed her. 

_'No more will I shed useless tears because of others. No longer will I look to others for strength. I am on my own.'_ She silently vowed to guard her heart closely and, while she could not help but love him, she would put any thought of being with Loghain out of her mind. She would be exactly what he saw her as; an expendable tool in the battle against the Blight.

Parean stirred from her thoughts when she felt Morrigan's hand touch her shoulder. She turned to see her holding a canteen of water. Parean gratefully accepted it, sipping the cool water slowly and carefully until she felt hydrated enough to speak normally.

"Well, I must say how _wonderful_ it is to receive such a _warm_ welcome back," Parean spat angrily, morbid sarcasm dripping from every word. "I didn't expect a gathering in my honor, after all it's not as though I just returned from the dead. Oh, wait..." 

"What manner of reception did you expect?" Morrigan scoffed, her eerie yellow eyes staring at Parean unsympathetically.

Parean glared defiantly back at her; the hurt she felt over Loghain's words was evident in her expression making the venom that punctuated her reply all the more surprising, "Oh, I don't know, a simple _'Parean! Thank the Maker you're alright!'_ would have been pleasant. Even a casual _'I'm glad to see that you have recovered. We cannot afford to lose our healer,'_ would have sufficed better than _'I'm pushing this burden off on you and I expect you to kill her if she is different in any way. Now, don't bother me with such trivial nonsense...'_ Sorry, his preferred word is 'foolishness' _'Now, don't bother me with such trivial foolishness about her being glad to see me.'_

Morrigan slowly shook her head, "Why you choose to waste your affections on one such as he is a complete mystery to me."

Parean was shocked at Morrigan's comment. She briefly considered denying her claim though she knew it would be pointless. She sighed softly, her anger subsiding, "Is it that obvious?"

Morrigan looked genuinely surprised, "I had expected you to deny it or feign ignorance. Thank you for not considering me an unobservant fool." Letting out an exasperated sigh, she crossed her arms and peered at Parean, "And yes, it is that obvious. Whenever you're near him, your expression brightens, you gaze at him with ridiculously adoring eyes, and your demeanor becomes giddy like a child. Tis most sickening." A pained grimace played across Morrigan's face, "I had hoped I erred in my assumption but your ramblings in The Fade proved otherwise. I heard you curse him for putting duty above love and happiness, as well as your inane request to relive your last moment with him."

_'I should have realized the possibility that she could hear me as well.'_ Parean found she was not upset that Morrigan had discovered her secret. Over the last several weeks, she had begun to feel a special bond with Morrigan. She thought about how much she missed her two closest friends, Muirne and Eira, and the camaraderie they shared. Saying goodbye to them had been the hardest part of leaving the Circle. She looked at Morrigan and smiled, _'It will be a welcome relief to have someone to confide in again.'_

Morrigan pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed in frustration, "I suppose tis unnecessary for me to understand your ridiculous infatuation. If fawning over that blind fool brings you happiness then, by all means, continue on your course. It may prove an amusing distraction from the task ahead."

Parean chuckled inwardly at Morrigan's description of Loghain. _'Apparently my Loghain is...was...not alone in his opinion.'_ Sadness enveloped her at the thought of him. Her heart ached to be with Loghain, _her_ Loghain, again. Images of her Fade World disintegrating before her eyes flashed in her mind. Anger welled up inside her as the reality struck home. _Her_ Loghain was gone; everything she had created...gone in the blink of an eye. _'And for what...'_ she thought bitterly, _'...to return to a man who I thought was at least a friend.'_ Loghain's rebuke raced through her mind and she felt her resentment grow, _'obviously I was completely wrong in my assessment._ '

With great effort, Parean slowly rose from her bedroll and gingerly stretched her body to ease the tension and stiffness in her muscles. "It doesn't really matter what I think or want or feel at this point," she remarked dryly, her words cold and harsh, "it is plain to see that I mean nothing more to him than a pawn in the game of war. It is what it is and there is nothing I can do about it." She held out a hand to help Morrigan to her feet.

"Indeed, so it would seem." Morrigan gave her an incredulous look as she took Parean's hand and pulled herself up. _'Apparently, she is also blind to the reality of it.'_ Morrigan had an almost intuitive ability to read people, born from many years of secretly watching the people of Lothering while disguised in various animal forms. She had noticed Parean's growing infatuation with Loghain as well as what seemed to be his own conflicted emotions regarding the young mage. She felt a small twinge of pity for the girl who, much to her own surprise, she had come to see as a younger sister. The bitterness Parean felt over Loghain's comments was evident, though she tried to hide it with sarcasm. _'Twould be cruel of me to attempt to dissuade her. She needs to learn the truth of love, regardless of the pain it will inflict.'_ Morrigan vowed to help Parean learn this lesson.

Morrigan rested a hand on Parean's shoulder, "Your mistake is to believe in the fairy stories told to naïve young girls about their 'one true love'. Perhaps this experience will enlighten you to the true nature of love." 

Parean was surprised at Morrigan's tone. Far from being critical and abrupt, as she would have expected, her voice was gentle and calm, almost lyrical in its sincerity. She was intrigued and stared at Morrigan with wide, unassuming eyes, "What do you mean 'the true nature of love'?"

"Surely you jest? Can you not see that love is a lie, a falsehood?" Exasperation crept into Morrigan's voice as she began to pace around the tent. "Regardless of what the fairy stories say, love is neither fair nor kind nor caring. Tis a vision never to be obtained, an illusion showing feelings you are never permitted to experience. _Love_ is a fantasy that inevitably ends in heartbreak." She ceased her pacing and turned to face Parean, her bright yellow eyes bearing down on her, "In all the times you have felt love, whether romantic or for family and friends, can you say that it has not been such?"

Parean was taken aback for a moment and then dejectedly nodded her head in agreement, "You're right. My love for my parents, my friendship with Muirne and Eira, my infatuations with Ser Alrik...and Loghain...all lead to nothing but a broken heart and worthless tears." Hopelessness and desperation tinged her words as she looked to Morrigan for an answer, "What is there to do? I do not wish to be alone but I'm not willing to risk causing myself any more pain."

Morrigan's reply was simple and pointed, "Do not allow your emotions to rule you. You must learn to be practical with your feelings. Do not trust your heart blindly to any friend and not at all to any lover. You can become close to someone, friend or lover, as long as you approach the relationship knowing that it will eventually end."

"I don't know, Morrigan. That sounds so cold and callous." Parean suddenly chuckled, "It sounds like you're describing Loghain, and we all know how well his cold heartless bastard image has worked out for him." Parean twisted her features into the best 'Loghain scowl' she could manage, pointed an accusing finger at Morrigan and growled in a deep, gravelly voice, "That's Warden Commander Loghain to you, soldier. Now, do as I command or face the scowl of doom!" Both women burst into laughter, breaking the tension that had filled the air. Parean jokingly rubbed her cheeks and muttered, "Ow! Maker's Breath, how does he manage to scowl like that all the time? I think I may have pulled a muscle."

"Then tis no wonder why he is always cross. The pain helps to complete his persona, for the 'scowl of doom' would be nothing without his legendary irritability." Morrigan and Parean snickered in unison.

After their laughter subsided, Parean sighed, "I suppose it's time to find out whether you need to kill me or not. Let's test my healing powers by taking care of your wounds." Parean held her hands, now glowing a brilliant blue, over Morrigan's arms. Within moments no trace of her wounds remained.

"Your healing ability is as proficient as always." Morrigan commented, examining her arms with a satisfied nod. She looked at Parean and scoffed, "Though I already know the answer, I imagine that I must still ask. Do you feel as though you have changed in any way, such as an overwhelming desire to follow my every command?" 

Parean smirked, "Hmmm...I feel empty, hopeless, the crushing weight of responsibility and a general sense of melancholy, so no, everything is normal. I have no desire to maim and kill at your whim," she smiled playfully, "so Alistair can breathe a sigh of relief."

Morrigan chuckled, "That is truly a pity. Twould be worth risking Loghain's wrath to see you disembowel that dolt. I shall inform Loghain that you remain as you were and there will be no need to sacrifice you after all."

"Sacrifice me?" Parean asked with a puzzled look.

"As I was reviving you, he and Alistair were preparing to sacrifice you to your Maker." Morrigan sneered with barely veiled contempt.

_'A pyre? They were going to give me a pyre?'_ Parean was confused yet touched by the very idea. _'Mages don't receive pyres, Alistair knows this.'_ She would need to question him about it after she had a chance to recover.

Parean smiled appreciatively at Morrigan, "Thank you Morrigan, for everything. I would not be here if it weren't for you. No one has ever gone as far as you have to help me and I wanted you to know that I appreciate it."

"You are welcome. I could not see you waste your life for no reason." Morrigan flashed an awkward but genuine smile at Parean.

As Morrigan turned to leave, Parean called to her, "Wait! Before you leave, may I ask you something?" Morrigan turned to face her, waiting for her to continue. "When I awoke, what was happening? Loghain said that he had done what you asked. What was Loghain...doing?" Parean's face turned a deep crimson as she nervously shuffled her feet.

Morrigan explained the events leading up to Parean's return. "Twas quite the site to see them arguing over who would perform the task."

"They argued...over who would save me?" Parean felt indignation at the thought.

"Yes, like petulant children. Loghain commanded Alistair to do it; Alistair retorted that Loghain should do it since he is the resident 'hero'. Were I not so weary from maintaining the ritual, I would have been greatly amused." A wry grin touched her lips, "I am certain that you are pleased with the result. The task did require Loghain to be in rather...intimate...contact with you."

Parean's cheeks flushed and beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, much to Morrigan's amusement. _'No wonder my memory seemed to real. When I awoke my arms were...Oh Maker! What must I have done?!'_

Her embarrassment quickly vanished as she thought about Loghain and Alistair's argument. _'He didn't want to do it. He tried to force Alistair to do it because he didn't want to.'_ Anger swelled inside her once again, _'Now, even my final memory of my Loghain is tainted. He has taken that from me as well.'_

"We have not yet tested my fighting ability," Parean seethed, "I suddenly have a strong urge to set something on fire...Where's Loghain?" She flicked her left hand open and, as expected, an intensely burning fireball formed and gently floated above her palm. "That man's heart is as cold as a blizzard in Wintermarch...this should warm it up nicely," she growled. 

She flicked open her right hand and was shocked at the result. A small whirlwind of snow and ice swirled in the air and around her hand, instantly freezing it. "What in the name of Andraste?" Parean gasped as she quickly set her right hand ablaze to thaw it out. "I've never been able to conjure ice before...how is this possible?"

"An unexpected result of the ritual, no doubt. You were dead for several hours before I began. It was necessary to infuse some of my blood into you, and thus your heart was able to beat once more." Morrigan looked at Parean thoughtfully, "Tis apparent that you gained my ice magic as well. Most interesting."

"I'm fairly certain that Loghain will not find this 'interesting' at all." Parean tried to mask the concern she felt over this turn of events. "I suppose this means you must 'dispose' of me now?" She looked at Morrigan with a sheepish grin.

"Strike you down simply because you have acquired a new skill to aid you in your cause?" Morrigan scoffed, "The very idea is ridiculous."

"But, Loghain said..." Parean began but quickly halted when Morrigan waved a nonchalant hand.

"He put you in my charge and I will do as I see fit. You need only to avoid using your new power in his presence." Morrigan turned to leave, casually remarking over her shoulder, "Do not concern yourself overmuch. What he does not know will not harm him. Your secrets, both of them, are safe with me."

Parean spent the majority of the day resting in her tent, only venturing out once midday to replenish her canteen. As she waited for the freshly boiled lake water to cool, she heard Alistair call her name. Just as she turned to face him, he swooped down upon her, whisked her up into his arms and hugged her tightly. She hugged him in return and smiled as he prattled on about how relieved he was that she was alright, how crazy she was for killing herself and that she should never, ever scare him like that again. 

Parean gave him a quick squeeze, assured him that she would not intentionally harm herself again and stepped back to move out of his embrace. He thwarted her attempt to release him by holding her even more tightly against his hard, muscular body. She began to feel an awkward uneasiness. Pushing her hands against his chest, she looked at him and uttered a confused, "Umm...Alistair?"

His tanned skin immediately beamed a bright red as he hastily released her, stammering anxiously, "I'm...I'm sorry...I...I didn't mean..."

His deep blue eyes held a mixture of embarrassment, shame and...something. Parean didn't give the matter much thought as she hurriedly turned her attention back to her pot of water. She pretended to test the temperature of the water as she discretely used her new ability to chill the pot and rapidly cool its contents. Quickly filling her canteen, she nervously excused herself and returned to the relative safety of her tent.

#######################################

Nightfall came and Parean could not deny the gnawing feeling in her stomach any longer. The notoriously ravenous Grey Warden hunger only served to remind her that she could not avoid the inevitable forever; sooner or later she would have to face Loghain again. She mustered her courage and confidently strode out of her tent, only to be knocked to the ground as she ran broadside into Loghain.

Loghain, lost in thought over the day's events, was jolted back to reality by the collision. He looked down and was amused to see Parean sitting on the ground. "Forgive me Parean, my mind was elsewhere and I did not see you leave your tent." His tone was light and jovial, "Are you alright? Here, let me help you." He offered his hand to her. She did not move to take his hand and simply sat there, staring at him. The moment was becoming increasing awkward and Loghain felt the need to fill the deafening silence. "It is fortunate that I am not wearing my armor. I suspect that had I been, you would have cause to be more irritated than I imagine you are now." He stood there, his hand still extended to her, and waited.

Parean stared up at Loghain in confusion. Gone was the cold heartless bastard from this morning who had so callously called her a burden and a nuisance. This was the Loghain she had come to know over the past several weeks; thoughtful, warm and attempting to ease the tension with his dry humor that she adored so much. She gazed into his icy blue eyes and, as usual, they held the smile that never quite seemed to reach his features. 

Loghain cleared his throat and gestured slightly with his hand, still waiting for her to take it. Her resolve was crumbling and her limbs felt weak. _'How am I ever going to get through this when he can move me with a single look?'_ Parean gathered what strength she had remaining and waved him off, "I'm fine. I can manage on my own."

"Nonsense," Loghain retorted, reaching down to grasp her hand, "you've had a trying time. Please, allow me to help you. I'll not have you straining yourself before you've fully recovered."

Parean relented, allowing him to take her hand. A warm tingling in the pit of her stomach coursed through her body like lightning bolts causing her cheeks to flush; her normal reaction to being near him. She relished the feeling of excitement and deliciously tense, barely contained energy surging inside her, culminating in her heightened sensitivity to the feel of his strong, calloused hand gently cradling hers. She noticed the slight softening of his expression and the tell-tale glint in his eye; he was about to say something witty and sarcastic. _'Maker's sake, do I truly know him so well that I can see things others cannot?'_

As he helped Parean to her feet, Loghain chuckled, "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever emerge from your tent. I am relieved to see that my concern was unnecessary. It would, however, have been entertaining to attempt to pack your tent with you still inside." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and waited for her to right herself, idly stroking her thumb with his own. His eyes held hers; they shone with a warm light and there was a slight blush on her cheeks. He expected to hear her lilting laughter followed by an equally sarcastic retort. Loghain enjoyed bantering with Parean a great deal and, after acting like such a fool earlier, he was eager to feel at ease with her again. What he saw instead surprised him. Anger flashed in her eyes then...nothing. Her eyes were blank, as though a veil had been lowered over them. Parean's imperceptibly whispered words combined with the hard set of her features told Loghain that this would not end well.

_'Concern?!? He dares to joke about his 'concern' for me?'_ Loghain's ranting from earlier rushed to the forefront of her mind. 

_'Had she not chosen to take her own life, there would be no cause for concern...'_  
 _'This whole matter has done nothing but waste what precious little time we have...'_  
 _'you now bear the burden of responsibility...'_

_'Does he truly think after all he said that we can simply go back to casually bantering as before?'_ Parean's mind raged at the thought. At that moment, she understood the truth of Morrigan's warnings.

_'Do not allow your emotions to rule you...'  
'Do not trust your heart blindly...'_

With her emotions running wildly out of control, Parean felt her power beginning to surge. While the thought of sending Loghain to meet The Maker was strangely appealing to her, she would not put Alistair and Morrigan at risk. She quickly recited her mind control incantation under her breath before dealing with Loghain.

She looked at him standing there, no doubt waiting for her to offer a humorous quip to his joke. Her face hardened into the stony mask she had seen him wear countless times. Without another thought, she tore her hand from his, "There is no need for concern on my behalf as there will not be a repeat of yesterday's events. I apologize for my weakness and disregard for our purpose and I assure you that I will be a burden no longer. I am quite capable of fending for myself and it is past time for me to do so." Though her eyes remained vacant as she stared up at him, the coldness of her tone betrayed the bitterness she felt, "Thank you for your assistance Warden Commander."

"Warden Commander?" Loghain repeated the words as though he spoke them for the first time. "Parean, why are you..." he muttered before being cut off by Parean's raised hand.

"Forgive me Ser, but I must take my leave. I have not eaten in over a day and I must attend to it at once to aid in my healing." Parean gave Loghain a quick cross-armed bow, "Warden Commander." Without another word she turned and headed toward the fire, leaving Loghain behind staring at her back in stunned disbelief.

Parean helped herself to a skewer of freshly roasted rabbit and a hefty bowl of Morrigan's stew. She was already ripping large chunks of meat from the rabbit as she walked over to join Morrigan, who rolled her eyes at the vile way Parean was devouring her meal. Parean flashed an innocent grin and, with a shrug, continued to voraciously consume anything that remotely resembled food. Once her appetite was sated, the mages became engrossed in a rather lengthy conversation that involved numerous side glances, several fits of laughter and a smattering of approving nods from Morrigan.

At one point, Alistair tried to approach the women and was met with two heavy, disapproving glares. He turned and walked back toward Loghain who was shaking his head solemnly. "What's wrong with them?"

Loghain stared into the fire and sighed, "Maker only knows, but it's been my experience that when women act as such, it's probably better that you don't know the reasoning."

#######################################

Parean lay on her bedroll, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Her mind was full of thoughts about her pyre and the argument between Alistair and Loghain. She would not be able to quiet her mind until she had answers but she certainly could not ask Loghain. Alistair was on guard duty which afforded her the chance to speak with him privately.

She found him sitting at the campfire, aimlessly throwing sticks and various weeds into the flames. "Blessed Andraste, thank you for gracing us with such an attentive protector. I feel safer already," she teased as she walked up beside him.

Alistair smiled and tossed a handful of sticks at her. "Very funny, smartarse." He stretched his limbs and yawned, "Can't sleep? Something on your mind?"

Parean stared down at her feet, not knowing how to start. "Morrigan told me of the argument you and Loghain had over who would help to revive me." She looked up at Alistair, "why did neither of you wish to help me?" The hurt she felt was obvious in her expression.

"No, no...it wasn't like that at all." He sighed heavily, "It's not that we didn't want to help you, it's just...well, Loghain felt it was inappropriate for him, as your commanding officer, to do it and I..." he bowed his head as his face took on its normal crimson hue, "I've never been in that...intimate...of a position with a woman and I...I just panicked I guess," he stammered. "Loghain finally agreed to do it once Morrigan made it clear that we were running out of time. He sent me off to tend the pyre, just in case."

"Yes, about that," Parean gave him a dubious look, "you were a templar. You know that it's unheard of for a mage to receive a pyre. What made you decide to make one for me?"

Alistair stared at the slowly dying campfire. He rose and gently stoked it until the flames roared back to life, "Actually, it was Loghain's idea. I mentioned that mages don't normally get pyres and he nearly throttled me. He said that you deserved the same respect that would be given to any Grey Warden." Alistair turned to her and smiled, "Come with me and I'll show you where it would have been."

Alistair led Parean to the small glade on the shore of Lake Calenhad. Although the current phase of the moon did not cast enough light to see her surroundings clearly, Parean was filled with a sense of calm and peacefulness. "How did you ever find this place?"

"That was Loghain's doing as well. He said it was the perfect location for your pyre." Alistair chuckled under his breath, "For purely practical reasons, of course."

"Practical reasons? What do you mean?"

"It is large enough to build the pyre without causing harm to the surrounding trees." Alistair grinned sheepishly at Parean, "I would hardly expect him to take notice of the romantic atmosphere."

Parean breathed in deeply. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine, lavender and roses. _'Yes, there is definitely a romantic feel to the area.'_ She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander.

"You should see it in the dawn's light. It's absolutely beautiful." Alistair paused for a moment, and then quietly excused himself, stating that he would return shortly. He walked toward the edge of the glade, gently sliding his dagger from its sheath.

Parean took no notice of his comment or his departure. She was lost in the fantasy playing out in her mind. A fantasy of sharing a private moment with Loghain, here, in the perfect place he had chosen for her.

_'We sit together on the grass, gazing at the pale moonlight that glistens across the lake as the water gently laps on the shore. I rest my head on his shoulder; he puts his arm around me, pulling me tight against him. No words need be spoken between us; our feelings are conveyed in a single touch as he gently caresses my cheek and our lips meet. He stares deeply into my eyes and smiles softly. Tenderly, he lays me down on the...'_

Parean jumped as something brushed her shoulder. She turned to see Alistair standing next to her, his handsome face the very image of innocence and his deep blue eyes brimming with that same...something...that she was previously unable to discern.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you." Alistair quietly breathed, "I wanted to give you this."

Parean could not see what Alistair held in his hand. After a moment her eyes focused on the object; a perfect red rose. She smiled and gingerly took the gift from him, "For me?"

Alistair nervously rubbed the back of his neck, "Yes...you have been so distressed as of late...I thought this might help to cheer you up." He turned his gaze on her; a smile full of warmth and sincerity lighting up his face.

Touched by his kind gesture, Parean reached up and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Thank you Alistair. It's a lovely gift and I appreciate it more than you know." She smiled sweetly at him, "Thank you for putting my mind at ease as well. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some rest."

Alistair gently took her arm, "Allow me to escort you to your tent, milady." Parean gave a mock curtsey to accept of his offer. They walked, arm in arm, back toward the camp.

Hidden in the shadows, Loghain mused quietly to himself as he left the glade and walked back to his tent, "And once again, I...am the lesser man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I feel like I should do penance for what I did to my poor Loghain in this chapter..._


	16. You Always Hurt The One You Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Loghain and Parean spend some quality time together before leaving for The Circle..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I was really hoping to get to The Circle in this chapter but were it ends just felt right. Next chapter will start at The Circle. There's alot of interaction between Parean and Loghain in this chapter. I felt that since this is the first chance they've had to really talk since she returned, they deserved some time together. I also wanted to delve into their pasts alittle._

**Chapter 16  You Always Hurt The One You Love**

Parean stood on the crest of the glade; a cool breeze brushing gently across her face. The early morning light was just beginning to break on the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of red and gold. It seemed that the whole world sprang to life in an instant as the dew-covered forest shimmered brilliantly in the growing light and the mist covering the lake began to recede.

"It's just so...breathtaking..." she sighed wistfully. "Like something out of a fairy story."

Slowly she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, relishing the warmth of the sun blanketing her face. She breathed in the perfume of the abundant flora deeply and listened to the quiet rustling sounds in the surrounding forest. Off in the distant, she was vaguely aware of her companions shuffling through the camp, packing the tents and making preparations for their departure to the Circle. The peaceful tranquility of this place filled her with a calmness the likes of which she had never known.

"Yes...this...is the perfect place." Parean breathed serenely. Her fantasy from the previous night drifted into her mind and a warm, gentle smile radiated across her features. _'Regardless of it being a practical choice, he did choose this stunning place for me.'_

Leaning against a nearby tree, Loghain quietly stood there listening to her. _'It is as I imagined.'_ He was pleased that she found this place beautiful, as he thought she would. As she stood there, lost in the sights and sounds all around her, he watched her, committing every detail to memory; the way her face seemed to glow in the light of the morning sun, the smooth line of her jaw, the soft curve of her neck, how her long blonde hair brushed against her back as it floated effortlessly in the gentle breeze. Still vivid in his mind was the memory of her body pressed against him, the feel of her soft lips, and the taste of her as their tongues intertwined. 

Loghain's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her supple lips pulling back into that lovely smile she wore only when she was truly happy. He wondered what she was thinking about to cause such a look. _'Or perhaps the better question is "who" she is thinking about?'_ his mind countered as it replayed last night's scene at the glade. He felt a violent twisting of his insides at the idea of a budding romance between Parean and Alistair. The happenings of the previous day culminating with observing Parean's reaction to Alistair's token of affection left him feeling disheartened and very much like a foolish old man.

_'Foolish old man indeed. You are, quite literally, old enough to be her father. Continuing to entertain these irrational romantic notions of yours is utterly ludicrous. You are cursed in love and any opportunity you may have had to change that fact has long since passed.'_

He shut his eyes tight and shook his head violently, attempting to banish the thought; the two braids that framed his face cracking like whips against his cheeks. _'NO! I shall not, will not, ruin this moment with such thoughts.'_ Slowly and deliberately, he drew in a long, ragged breath, filling his lungs as deeply as possible. After a moment, he exhaled, purposefully forcing every ounce of air from his body that he could manage. His mind calmed and, once again, focused on more pleasant thoughts. 

Gradually he opened his eyes; she was still standing there, eyes closed and head tilted toward the sky, basking in the glow of the sunbeams spilling down upon her features. He smiled inwardly at the sight of her, _'Her smile outshines even the brilliance of the sun.'_ His mind gave a silent prayer of thanks to The Maker for returning Parean to themto him. Though, realistically, he knew that they would never be together, to have her near was infinitely preferable to a life without her. 

_'I do not know what I have done to deserve this brief moment with her, but I am thankful for it.'_ Loghain's heart raced; his mind filled with images of how he wished to share this time with Parean.

_'She trembles at the sight of Kinloch Hold in the distance; a place filled with unspeakable memories and torment for her. I approach her from behind and gather her into my arms. "You have nothing to fear, beloved. The Circle and its Templars can no longer harm you." She lowers her head and sighs, "I know that is true, but the thought of returning" Her body tenses and she shudders. I gently cup her chin and gaze into her eyes, "Hush love. Nothing will harm you. I will always protect you." Her body relaxes and melds against mine. Her lips spread into that beautifully awkward smile and her enchanting blue eyes brim with tears. She lays her head on my shoulder; her soft, delicate hand reaching up to gently stroke my cheek as she whispers, "Thank you my love." She stares at me intently; her head tilting back as she wills my lips to hers...'_

"Are you going to say something or were your planning on just standing there until we depart?"

Loghain was jolted out of his reverie at Parean's unexpected comment. "It was my intention to...inquire on how you fair this morning, but you seemed lost in thought and I did not wish to disturb you," he lied.

Parean opened her eyes and turned to face him and her heart fluttered at the sight. He had not yet donned his massive Warden Commander armor. Instead, he wore a simple ivory tunic with dark brown leather breeches that flared out over the top of his knee-high leather boots. The thin brown leather lace that was threaded through the v-shaped opening of his tunic was untied, showing a hint of the coarse black hair that sparsely covered his taut, bronzed chest. She was keenly aware of how the tight material of his tunic and breeches clung to him, accentuating every inch of his hard, muscular body. _'What a dashing pirate he would make,'_ she thought as her eyes raked over him like a lustful sailor too long at sea. Fortunately for her, the sudden flush of her cheeks was hidden by her already reddened skin from the heat of the morning sun. 

Touched by his apparent and unanticipated concern, Parean smiled warmly at him. "You are not disturbing me. I was just..." Her words faltered as she tried to devise a reasonable explanation for her actions without divulging the truth. "This place is so peaceful. I just wanted to enjoy it for a moment before I had to face The Circle again."

Loghain understood how difficult it would be for Parean to enter The Tower and his heart went out to her. "You have nothing to fear of The Circle. You are no longer a Circle mage but a Grey Warden and they have no authority over you."

"Yes, I know, but there are so many hurtful memories there..." Parean looked toward the looming tower that housed The Circle of Magi and her expression fell into sadness. She glanced at the beauty of her surroundings before returning her gaze to The Tower. "How can something so beautiful exist in the shadow of a place filled with so much ugliness and despair?"

Without thinking, Loghain blurted out, "Ugliness exists all around us. It serves to make that which is truly beautiful shine more brightly. Anyone who cannot appreciate that rare beauty when he sees it is a blind fool."

_'Oh Maker, why did I say that?'_ Loghain swore to himself over his uncharacteristic lack of control.

Parean turned and stared at him, an expression of genuine shock on her face. "That was..." she paused; her body threatening to swoon. She let out a small, contented sigh, "What a lovely thing to say." She smiled wryly at Loghain, "I never would have imagined it possible but I think there's a bit of a romantic in you."

_'Well, that went better than expected,'_ he mused to himself. Loghain grunted playfully, "Humph...impossible. I am a cold, heartless bastard who only delights in kicking puppies and scaring small children. Just ask anyone."

Parean's lilting laughter floated through the air, "Yes...The Great Loghain Mac Tir...Teyrn, General and Hero of River Dane would never deign to sully himself with our petty human emotions." She looked around with feigned caution then leaned in as if to whisper a secret, "You know...I've heard that were he ever to smile, even a slight bit, his face would crack and a kitten would die."

A boisterous guffaw burst from Loghain's lips, "Exactly what I've always heard." He smiled mockingly, "Good thing it's never happened." He felt the familiar warmth of their camaraderie spread through his body, _'It feels good to banter with her again. Perhaps my making an arse of myself yesterday was not as detrimental as I thought.'_

Parean suddenly stood at attention, bringing her fist to her chest and bowing in a soldier's salute, "I promise, my lord, to take your secret to my grave." Her lips spread into an evil sarcastic grin, "after all, we wouldn't want it known that there may actually be a heart beating under that grizzled exterior."

Loghain returned the gesture, "Thank you soldier. That would be much appreciated. Were it to become common knowledge, the enemy may believe I've gone soft."

Parean snickered, "We can't have that. They may even attempt to distract you by throwing flowers instead of lobbing arrows in some sort of deranged diversionary tactic. That would just be embarrassing."

They laughed together for several moments as Parean brushed happy tears from her eyes. She looked at Loghain, "On a more serious note, I would like to ask you something, if I may?"

"Of course."

Gathering her courage, Parean delved into the question that was, once again, foremost on her mind. "Alistair said that giving me a pyre in this place had been your idea. Might I ask why? He told you that mages are cursed in the eyes of The Chantry and, therefore, not deserving of a holy pyre. Something, I'm sure, you already knew."

_'Choose your words carefully...'_ his mind warned. Hesitating for only a moment to gather his thoughts, he uttered a half-truth plainly; his tone the essence of neutrality. "You are my sister in The Grey and worthy of the honor and respect given to any Grey Warden who has fallen." Loghain's heart sank at Parean's expression of disbelief. 

Loghain silently raged, _'Curse The Chantry for its overbearing and pompous treatment of mages. To make someone as pure and good as she feel unworthy of the simple courtesy given to a common loutI can see now why The Maker abandoned us. He left us because we deserved it.'_

"As for choosing this place..." he continued, gesturing to the glade as he stared into her eyes, "I thought it an ideal location."

"Indeed," Parean nodded, "so Alistair said. Very practical."

"Yes, practicality was one reason..." Loghain agreed tentatively, "but not the only one."

Intrigued, Parean stared at him quizzically, "What other reason could there be?"

Loghain focused his response on the one answer that he felt would satisfy her curiosity without revealing his true reasoning, "There is a quiet serenity in these surroundings that I felt was aptly fitting for the circumstances."

Parean studied Loghain's demeanor for a long moment. Something about his answer and the very precise way he was speaking told her that there was more to this than he was letting on. _'He's holding something back. I wonder...could he...is it possible...'_ She stopped herself before daring to complete her thought. Above all else, she wanted to believe that he chose this special place out of affection...perhaps even love for her. _'No. I cannot allow myself to attach a feeling to his motivations where none exists simply because I wish it to be so.'_ Whatever his reservations, he obviously did not wish to give them voice and she knew him well enough to know that it would be fruitless to probe further.

Parean's gaze softened, "Thank you. To know that someone believes I am worthy of such an honor means more to me that you will ever know."

"You are welcome." Though she still held a slight smile, Loghain noted the hint of sadness in her eyes.

An awkward silence filled the space between them. Unsure of what to do or say, Parean aimlessly wandered over to a nearby rose bush. Softly caressing a delicate bud with the tip of her finger she absentmindedly breathed, "So beautiful. You know, I've only seen pictures of roses in books. I've never actually held one, until last night."

Loghain felt as though he had been struck a vicious blow; the violent twisting of his gut returning at the memory. A strained "Really?" was all he could manage in reply.

"Yes, Alistair picked one for me."

Loghain managed to keep the bitterness out of his tone with a restraint that even The Maker himself would envy, "It would seem that you have an admirer."

Parean gawked at him incredulously, "I wouldn't say that. His only thought was that it might make me happy."

"Of course. Well, it was a kind gesture none the less." The words left a vile taste in his mouth.

Parean nodded, "It was very sweet of him."

Loghain cocked an eyebrow at the way her body started to sag dejectedly, "Is there something amiss?"

Parean's face plainly displayed her guilty conscience, "I don't want to seem ungrateful for his gift. I really do appreciate it, it's just..."

"Just what?" _'Just that you wished it a token of affection? That it came with a declaration of love?'_ His mind whirled with a bevy of possibilities, deliberately avoiding the one that he yearned to hear...that he had given the rose to her instead.

"It seems so silly and petty of me to even think it, but I wish it had been a yellow rose instead. They have always been my favorite, and I know I'll never see one because they are so rare...Oh Maker, that does sound horribly ungrateful and I am ashamed to admit to it but there it is." Parean grunted softly; her head hanging in shame.

A sense of relief filled Loghain's mind, "Well, then it seems that we share a bond of secrecy. You will keep mine and I shall keep yours."

Parean's heart leaped at his words, "Yes, I guess we do."

Memories of the past flooded Loghain's mind; a far-away look in his eyes, "Celia had a vast rose garden in Gwaren. She would spend hours either tending to them or sitting on the edge of the stone fountain and admiring them; Anora trailing her, absorbing every word that she uttered. When Celia died, Anora continued to care for the roses. After marrying Cailan, she took clippings from each variety and started her own garden at the Palace." A hint of sadness crept into his voice as he sighed, "She wanted to keep a part of her mother with her." Loghain looked at Parean, her eyes filled with sympathy, and smiled softly, "When we journey to Denerim, you should speak with her. It would please her greatly to take you around her garden."

"Thank you. I shall, indeed. I would love to see it." Her face brightened and she smiled warmly at him.

Parean's jovial mood darkened when she caught a glimpse of The Tower out of the corner of her eye. She turned and, once again, stared at the ominous structure. "I imagine we should be on our way. I am anxious to put our visit to The Tower behind me." Her thoughts began to wander; her hand absentmindedly moving to her forehead, her fingertips tracing the two five-inch long scars that ran parallel down the right-side, just below her hairline; reminders of her time with Ser Alrik.

Loghain moved to stand beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Your scars...Might I ask how you received them? If you do not wish to answer, I will understand."

A sudden gasp escaped her lips at his touch. She turned to face him; her eyes flashed with anger, "They were a _gift_ from Senior Enchanter Wynne. A reminder of the _mercy_ The Maker saw fit to show me. At least, that's how _she_ described it. I see them more as my punishment for _daring_ to oppose her."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand." Loghain asked hesitantly.

Parean inhaled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh as she briefly lifted her hair to fully expose her scars, "They are what remains of one of the injuries I received at Ser Alrik's hand." She winced at the memory of her head striking the hard stone wall of The Tower. For a moment, she found herself wishing that he had been more forceful with the blow. _'Ending my life would have been the greatest mercy he could have shown me,'_ she mused.

Loghain's grip slowly tightened then relaxed on her shoulder; his expression dark and foreboding. She was dispirited that even the emotions his gesture aroused in her could not dispel her memories of that night and her spirit was overwhelmed with a deep sense of gloom.

Images of Ser Cullen bringing her to Wynne crossed her mind and the bitterness and anger Parean felt toward the healer welled up inside. "Wynne is well-known for spouting off platitudes and that day was no exception. _'It is a miracle that you survived, child. You should offer an exceeding amount of thanks to The Maker, for it is only by His mercy that you live.'_ Humph...The Maker's mercy, indeed." Parean growled.

"How did you respond?"

"By saying that if The Maker had any sodding merciful thoughts toward me, He wouldn't have let it happen in the first place." Parean's tone was hard and matter-of-fact. "I have endured Wynne's self-righteous comments for most of my life but, at that moment, I had no patience for it. Likewise, Wynne has no patience for sarcastic quips and seeing as she was my healer...well...I'm sure you can put two and two together." 

"I see your point." Loghain replied sympathetically. "And you are quite correct. Her comment was completely inappropriate, given the circumstances."

Parean smiled weakly and placed her hand on his, "Thank you. That's kind of you to say."

They stood there for what seemed like an eternity; neither wanting the moment to end. Loghain grudgingly slid his hand from hers and broke the silence between them, "We should return to camp." 

Parean nodded in agreement, "As you say."

As Loghain turned to leave, a thought struck him. _'You may not have another chance anytime soon. You must do it now.'_ He turned back to face Parean; his tone solemn, "Before we go, I must...apologize."

Parean looked at him, confused by the comment, "Apologize? For what?"

"My actions last morning, when you...awoke. Just as it was with Wynne, my comments were inappropriate for the circumstances. I should not have spoken so harshly toward you; given the...ordeal...you had been through." Unsure of how she would react, Loghain readied himself for her response.

Parean was stunned into silence. During the time they spent talking, she had all but forgotten the anguish she felt from the previous day. His callous words filled her ears and her heart broke once more. Her mind taunted her sadistically, _'He is your commander; you are his solider, and an expendable one at that. Never forget if he learns that you now possess one of Morrigan's abilities, he will strike you down. Your 'bond of secrecy' will not extend to that particular secret.'_ Her vow to guard her heart closely floated through her thoughts. More than anything else, she wanted to fall into his arms and feel safe, protected and loved; even if just for a moment. Knowing that was not possible, she decided that she must begin to distance herself from him and her shattered heart sank.

Forcing her voice to be as cold and neutral as possible, she looked him squarely in the eyes; her features hard, "There is no need to apologize as there is nothing to forgive. You are my commanding officer and, as such, it is proper that you admonish a soldier whose actions caused a disruption that may have jeopardized the mission. You were simply reminding me of my place. Now, I shall return to camp to aid in the preparations for our journey to The Tower." Parean gave Loghain a one-armed salute and a slight bow, "By your leave, Warden Commander."

Loghain was shocked. _'I expected her to be angry, and rightly so, but this?'_ Any sadness he may have felt over the change in her behavior was quickly consumed by his growing irritation. _'She has got to be the most frustrating non-Orlesian woman I've ever met in my sodding life!'_ His patience was at its end. _'If this is how she wishes it to be, then so be it!'_

Solidly in his "General's Persona", Loghain scowled, his normally icy-blue eyes almost a steely grey from the depth of his agitation, the full force of his glare boring into her. His tone was menacing as he hissed through clenched teeth, "You are _dismissed_ , Junior Warden."

Parean straightened and began walking toward the camp. As she reached the end of the glade, she heard a loud **'thud'** accompanied by a slew of curses and obscenities that would make even the most hardened of the Dwarven Warrior Caste blush with embarrassment.

Alistair, Morrigan and Parean had nearly completed the dismantling of the camp when Loghain finally emerged from the forest. He would have slipped into his tent largely unnoticed had Alistair not drawn everyone's attention.

"Maker's Breath! What happened to your hand, Loghain?" Alistair gasped, pointing at Loghain's offending limb.

"It's nothing. A minor injury. Do not concern yourself with it." Loghain barked; his voice a mixture of pain and anger.

"A minor injury? It looks like a mabari was using it as a chew toy." Alistair gagged, turning a light shade of green.

Morrigan chuckled mockingly, "Tis truly curious that you are a Warden, oft times covered in the blood, ichor and entrails of darkspawn, yet this comparably minor injury sets your stomach to churning?"

Alistair glared at her through squinted eyes, "This is different."

"Yes? How so?" Morrigan goaded, raising a cynical eyebrow.

"I...I don't know...it just is!" Alistair threw up his hands in frustration and stormed off.

"Ah, an excellent reason. Tis a comfort to know that our lives rest in the hands of brave warriors such as you. The Grey Wardens chose well." Morrigan quipped as she returned to her work.

Parean stifled her laughter as she walked toward Loghain. Even from a distance, she could see the extent of his injury. His right hand was swollen to twice its normal size; the gaping wounds from his jaggedly torn flesh were bleeding profusely. Several pieces of bone were protruding through the undamaged portions of skin and most of the joints in his fingers were dislocated. Remembering the sound from the glade, she realized what had happened and felt a strange sympathy for the tree that bore the brunt of his temper.

Loghain refused to look at her as she approached. When she reached for his arm he jerked it away, "What do you think you're doing?"

"My duty. Last I checked my main role is the healer of our party, is it not? Or did that change when I wasn't looking?" Parean replied flatly.

"I said it is nothing. Leave me." With that, he strode toward his tent.

Parean's annoyance with his behavior was building rapidly. She trotted after him and grabbed his arm causing Loghain to yelp in pain. "Oh yes, you're perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with your hand at all," she remarked scornfully. "It would be very entertaining to see you wield your sword or draw your bow right now. Of course, you'd be killed since you would be completely useless in battle." She immediately regretted her words when Loghain winced. "Here now, hold still and let me heal you," her tone was soft and soothing.

"I am in no need of _your_ healing and I told you to leave me, _Junior Warden_." Loghain warned with barely controlled rage; his voice low and menacing and bitterness filling his words. 

_'Andraste's flaming sword! He is the most stubborn, irritating and infuriating man I've ever known!'_ Parean was determined that he would relent to her healing. "Oh! So it is just MY healing that you do not require," she spat acidly, "begging your pardon, _Warden Commander_ , but you will just have to accept it whether it is to your liking or not!"

Loghain's head suddenly snapped around to face Parean; his still steely grey eyes burning through her. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed. "I gave you an order, Junior Warden, and you _will_ stand down! You shall instruct Morrigan to tend to my injury!"

Parean stood her ground, returning the intensity of his glare with eyes that were now a deep cobalt blue, "So, you would prefer an apprentice healer to care for you rather than take healing from me?" She slammed her fist to her chest and bowed stiffly, "By your command, Warden Commander."

Turning her back to Loghain, Parean walked away as she shouted across the camp, "Morrigan! By order of the Warden Commander, you are to tend his injury!"

Taking her cue from Parean, Morrigan begin walking towards her as she shouted back, "Is that not rightfully your duty?! I am no healer!"

"So I thought, but I was informed that my presence was not required. He has specifically requested you and I must follow my orders."

Morrigan grunted with irritation, "As if I do not have better things to do."

They met in the middle of the camp. Parean briefly reviewed the state of Loghain's injury with her. "Don't worry, Morrigan. It's nothing that you can't handle."

Morrigan smirked, "I shall attempt to leave him only slightly crippled."

Parean placed a hand on Morrigan's arm, her eyes softening and her voice barely above a whisper, "Please, Morrigan, heal him properly and painlessly." Her lips formed into a wicked smile, "But leave the scars."

Morrigan's expression brightened with a sadistic grin as she nodded her agreement before leaving to perform her task.

In her teachings, Parean had always stressed to Morrigan the importance of explaining what was to happen to the patient before beginning the healing. _'It can make the process much easier for you and them if they are aware of what to expect.'_ Morrigan thought the idea a useless waste of time. Reluctantly, she began describing the manipulations required and that, since it would be excruciatingly painful, she would temporarily deaden his nerves before proceeding.

"Just get it done. Pain means nothing to me." Loghain snarled, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"Twould be easier on you were I to block your pain, but if you do not wish me to then so be it. It matters not to me." Morrigan seemed almost cheerful at the prospect.

"Do not feel the need to speak unless it's necessary. I am in no mood for idle prattle."

"Tis more to my liking as well." Morrigan closed her eyes, her hands illuminated with the bright blue healing aura. She concentrated her magic on his nerve endings, partially numbing them. _'For Parean's sake, not yours,'_ she thought, _'I would delight in allowing you to suffer.'_

Loghain grimaced as Morrigan began to repair his tortured hand. Though he wouldn't describe the pain as excruciating, it was unpleasant to say the least. He surveyed the happenings in the camp in an attempt to distract his mind. A decision he came to regret as his eyes fell upon Alistair and Parean. They were huddled together, deep in conversation. He could only understand a few disjointed words; Alistair saying, _'...if you ever...always here...'_ and Parean's reply, _'Thank you...I appreciate your...I will...'_ He glowered when Alistair embraced her, stroking her hair gently. When they finally parted, Parean stared up at him, placing a hand on his arm and smiling brightly. Loghain was vaguely aware of Morrigan's touch on his finger. Her grip tightened and he heard a loud **'crack'** followed by searing pain that shot through his arm causing him to involuntarily cry out.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Morrigan cooed with mock sympathy, "for some reason I was unable to straighten that finger magically. I had to do so manually." Morrigan's eyes danced with amusement.

Loghain shot her a hateful glance then examined his hand. "And the scars? Why did you not remove them?"

Morrigan shrugged, feigning helplessness, "Parean has yet to instruct me on the removal of such things. I see no point in it." She turned to leave his tent, "Mayhap you should think twice before you so casually cast aside an experienced healer."

With his hand properly healed, Loghain made short work of breaking down his tent and packing his belongings. Once done, they mounted their horses for the half-day's ride to The Tower while Morrigan flew ahead to scout their path. Alistair and Parean rode side-by-side, chattering on endlessly while Loghain stayed far enough ahead to remain mostly out of hearing. His already foul mood darkened every time he heard Parean laugh at the boy's inane humor. 

A mischievous grin spread across Loghain's lips. Patting his horse on the withers, he leaned forward, "Come boy. What do you say we show those pups how it's done?" His horse, a beautiful 12 year old roan-colored 16-hand Standardbred, snorted loudly and bobbed his head as if in agreement. "Atta boy, Red. We'll show them what a couple of old men can do. Let's see how much 'bonding' they can do then." Loghain circled round to face his followers and shouted, "Hurry up!" He waited as the younger Wardens trotted their horses to catch up. When they reached him, he whipped the reins to the left and bellowed, "Hi-yahh!" digging his heals into Red's belly. Red reared up with a loud whinny. Alistair's surprised, "What the..." died in the wind as Red turned and bolted down the road at full gallop. Loghain reveled at hearing Parean calling his name and begging him to slow down. He relished the feel of the wind whipping across his face. For the first time in years, he was elated. He felt young and free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Just as a side note, Loghain's horse was inspired by a horse that I owned many years ago...his name was actually "Shellbark's Velvet Premier" but we always called him 'Red'..._


	17. A Bittersweet Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Parean meets up with her cousin Muirne Amell and her close friend Eira Surana and finds out that things have changed at The Circle..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And they finally reach The Circle! Hopefully, this chapter will give everyone a better idea of why Parean is the way she is..._
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> _We also meet Muirne and Eira...Huge thanks go out to Morninglight (Muirne) and my niece Erica (Eira) for graciously allowing their characters to spend some time with Parean...I sincerely hope that I did them both justice...and extra thank you to Morninglight for putting up with all my questions about Muirne (you have no idea how much that helped me to write for her!) Several of Muirne's lines were actually written by her..._
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> _The Amell Amulet is another nod to Morninglight who made a necklace for me with a locket that holds my two favorite pictures of Loghain and Parean and has the Amell Family Crest on the front...I've dubbed it my Amell Locket..._
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> _Parean's mind control incantation is a combination of two wiccan calming chants I found..._
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> _MAJOR ***SPOILER ALERT*** FOR THOSE WHO HAVE NOT READ THE STOLEN THRONE! You have been warned..._

**Chapter 17  A Bittersweet Homecoming**

A flurry of dirt and rocks spewed into the air as Loghain brought his horse to a screeching halt. Red paced around furiously, snorting loudly and pawing at the ground. Though his coat was slick with sweat, it was obvious the powerful beast was not ready to stop so soon. "Easy, boy," Loghain spoke calmly, gently patting Red's neck, "we have arrived."

Loghain had already dismounted and tethered Red to a railing by the time Alistair and Parean reached The Tower's dock. "Well, it's about time," he remarked casually.

"What...the sodding...hell...was _that_...all about?" Alistair panted, his breathing labored from the effort of the ride. He led his horse to the railing, tethering it next to Loghain's. "What were...you thinking...charging off like...that?" He bent over, placing his hands on his knees, coughing violently against the dust and various insects he had inhaled along the way. 

Loghain chuckled inwardly at the sight of Alistair coughing up several chunks of mucous in a vain attempt to clear his lungs. Walking over to Alistair, he pounded him on the back with more force than necessary, "This is not a relaxing trip through the countryside for mere pleasure. We have many things to accomplish and needed to make up for lost time."

His coughing fit finally over, Alistair glared at Loghain, his dry, irritated throat choking his words, "I am aware of that, but was it really necessary to leave us in your wake?"

Loghain stared back at him, a sarcastic smile barely touching his lips, "What's the matter, boy? Can't keep up with an old man on his equally old horse?"

Alistair fixed him with a scowl that would have made a lesser man cower. Loghain merely smirked in return. "First of all, your horse is much stronger and faster than ours." He took the reins of Parean's horse and tethered it to the railing. Loghain watched as Alistair carefully lifted Parean off the saddle and gently sat her on the ground. Parean's breath was ragged and pain splayed on her face. He turned back to face Loghain, "More importantly, I needed to help Parean. Something you would have known had you not ridden off."

Loghain moved closer to examine Parean as she worked to heal the scrapes and bruises that covered her arms and face. She moved her hands downward to her leg. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate as her blue healing aura began to intensify over her badly deformed limb.

"What happened? How were you injured?" Loghain struggled to keep his voice neutral.

Her concentration broken, Parean's healing aura dissipated as she looked at Loghain with a stony gaze, "I am inexperienced with riding as quickly as required. My horse was either spooked or sensed my fear and bucked unexpectedly. Regardless of the reason, I was thrown to the ground and my leg became wedged between a tree and a large rock." She winced at the memory. "Alistair attempted to free me without causing further injury but could not. His only recourse was to forcibly pull my leg out, breaking it and dislocating my hip in the process."

Alistair knelt beside her, anguish and remorse in his eyes, "I'm so sorry, Parean. I did not want to hurt you. There must have been something else I could have done."

Parean placed a comforting hand on his arm and smiled sympathetically, "It's all right, Alistair. There was nothing you could have done. Even using my magic would have further injured me." She squeezed his arm gently, "You did what you had to do."

 _'Because I gave in to a fit of jealousy...she was injured...she could have been...'_ Loghain, riddled with guilt, berated himself for his foolish act. He had behaved like a petulant child and it was Parean who paid the price. He became aware that Parean was speaking to him, something about healing herself enough to continue the journey.

"...knew that once we arrived, I would be able to heal myself properly." Parean's tone turned cold, "I will be fit to perform my duties, Warden Commander, as soon as I have gathered enough strength to heal my leg."

Her words bit into him like an icy wind against his skin. "I shall proceed to The Tower and obtain any remedies you may need to aid you," Loghain stated flatly.

"That is unnecessary. I have what she needs." A rustling in the nearby trees drew their attention as Morrigan stepped out from the surrounding forest.

Alistair frowned at her, "Morrigan! Where have you been?"

Morrigan sighed irritably. She grew weary of explaining what should be obvious to this dolt. "Are we not at the very door of the mages prison?" Alistair's confused look only served to increase her frustration. "I concealed myself in the forest until your arrival. I imagined it unwise to transform in full view of a Templar who would not hesitate to strike me down," she smiled menacingly, "were he able to."

They watched as Morrigan removed elfroot, what appeared to be mushrooms and a strange powder from her herb pouch. Parean nodded in understanding as Morrigan held out the elfroot and mushrooms. Placing her hand over Morrigan's, Parean bathed the plants in heat, instantly drying them. Morrigan retrieved the mortar and pestle from her pouch and began combining the ingredients. After pouring the mixture into a small vial of liquid, she handed it to her.

As she moved to drink the potion, Alistair reached out and took the vial from her, "Stop! How do you know she's not trying to poison you?" Without a word, both women shot him an angry glare. He relented, giving the potion back to Parean who drank it in one swallow. The results were immediately evident as her pained expression relaxed and the remaining minor wounds disappeared.

"Now you can set about healing her leg, right?" Alistair asked hopefully.

Parean chuckled softly at Morrigan's exasperated grunt. She glanced at the Templar standing guard near the dock before turning to look at him, "I will heal it, Alistair." With a slight nod toward the Templar, she whispered, "He can do nothing about my use of magic, but were he to witness Morrigan..."

Loghain abruptly interrupted her, "Morrigan, do what you must to tend Parean's leg. I shall distract the Templar." With that, he turned and walked toward the dock.

Upon seeing Parean rise to her feet, Loghain excused himself and returned to his party. Before he could speak to her, Parean saluted and gave a curt, "I am fine, Warden Commander." Nodding slightly, he relayed the information he had gathered from his conversation with the Templar. "Apparently, there was an uprising within The Circle."

"An uprising? What manner of uprising? A rebellion? Who was responsible?" Parean could not believe what she was hearing.

Loghain shook his head slowly, "I do not know. He would not speak of it further, except to say that I should speak to Knight Commander Cullen for more information."

"Knight Commander...Cullen?" Parean stared at him, shocked and confused. "Cullen is Knight Captain of The Circle. What happened to Knight Commander Greagoir?"

Loghain shrugged, "He would not say. He also suggested that we may inquire of the acting First Enchanter as well."

"This has affected First Enchanter Irving as well?" A sense of panic swelled in Parean as she considered his words, _'To affect Irving and Greagoir...it must be worse than this Templar is letting on...'_ Images of Muirne and Eira flashed in her mind, increasing her concerns. "Who is the acting First Enchanter?"

Loghain replied, "An apprentice of Irving's named..."

"...Muirne." Parean interrupted, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Tell me what you know about Cullen and Muirne." Before speaking with either one, Loghain needed information to refine the strategies already forming in his mind.

Parean paused for a moment, "I don't really know much about Cullen. He came to The Tower a few years ago and rose quickly in ranks. When I was conscripted, he held the rank of Knight Captain. He is a good man and a friend to the mages. It is well known in The Circle that he...disagrees...with The Chantry's treatment of mages." Her tone became solemn, "It is because of him that I yet live and Ser Alrik was sent to Kirkwall."

Wanting to spare her the pain of reliving those memories, Loghain asked, "What of Muirne?"

"Muirne Amell I know very well," she said with a sad smile.

"Muirne Amell? A relative of yours?" Alistair interjected curiously.

"Yes, my younger cousin. Well, second cousin actually, though I never think of her as such." Parean's smile warmed, "She is more of a sister to me; my confidant. The only one in The Circle that I trust without question." She sighed reflectively, "I never even knew of her until I entered The Circle."

Alistair was intrigued and pressed on, "Odd that you were both in Ferelden but never met." Though he knew that they should continue on, Loghain welcomed the opportunity to learn more about Parean's past. He was more than willing to allow Alistair to satisfy his curiosity.

"Not really," Parean continued, "My father, Gabriel, was the eldest son of Lord Aristide Amell of Kirkwall. He was found to have magic at age 5. My grandparents gave him to The Gallows, swearing to never speak of him again. He watched as his parents rushed back to their estate, his baby sister Leandra swaddled in his mother's arms." She shook her head sadly, "My aunt probably doesn't even know that he existed."

"How can that be? A person of that station cannot simply disappear. And how did he come to be in Ferelden?" Alistair's tone was growing more confused.

"Power and influence can buy many things," Parean stated flatly. "As to how he came to Ferelden, there was no room at The Gallows for another mage so he was sent here."

"But how does Muirne fit into this?"

"My father's cousin, Revka Amell, also gave birth to a mage child named Daylen. He was housed in The Tower when my father arrived. Many years after my father escaped, he learned of a baby girl, born in The Chantry, with the surname 'Amell'. The mother was an Antivan mage who died in childbirth. He naturally assumed that Daylen was the father as he was sent away shortly thereafter." 

"And that child was Muirne," Alistair stated plainly.

"Yes. She lived in The Chantry until she, like both of our fathers, was discovered to have magic at a young age. She was only 4 years old when she was given to The Circle." Parean mused thoughtfully, "She knew nothing of our family until we met. To her, 'Amell' was just a name she had been given."

"Will she aid us against The Blight? Would she even understand the dangers a Blight would bring?" Loghain was doubtful to say the least.

Parean spun around to face Loghain, her eyes burning with indignation, "Of course she would!" She would suffer no ill words spoken about her cousin, no matter how unintentional. "Aside from the obvious fact that the Warden Treaties compel the mages to join us, she believes that mages should be allowed to use their magic to help others as long as it is done responsibly and ethically."

"I meant no disrespect toward your cousin. I simply need to know who I'll be dealing with." Loghain countered.

"Were I you, I would not speak to her in that manner." Parean's eyes narrowed, "She is highly intelligent and a quick study of behaviors. She can be very tolerant of a person's fool notions but do not take her demeanor lightly. If you go too far, she will push back."

"A trait that runs in your family, it would seem." Loghain commented sourly. Before Parean could answer, he raised his hand to silence her, "Enough. It is time for us to see what has come of this uprising." Turning toward Alistair, he issued his orders, "Alistair, you and Morrigan will go to The Spoiled Princess and secure our rooms for the night. Gather what information you can from the patrons. Parean and I will go to The Tower and speak with Cullen and Muirne."

They sat in silence as Kester, the ferryman, rowed the small, rickety boat across Lake Calenhad to the island that held The Tower. When they arrived, Loghain tried to help Parean exit the shaky boat but she refused. Instead, she took Kester's hand and stepped warily onto the shore. She smiled weakly at him and muttered a quiet 'thank you'. Nervous energy coursed through her body as she stood there, staring at her former home. At Loghain's gentle prodding, she forced herself to move forward and they entered The Tower.

"By The Maker..." Parean gasped, looking around the Great Main Hall of The Tower. A smoky haze filled the air, thick with the stench of rotting flesh. She noticed several templars and mages scrubbing the scorched floors and walls, removing the last remnants of blood splatters that seemed to cover every surface.

Bodies covered by thin sheets littered the hallway as they continued further into The Tower. In passing one of the apprentice bedchambers, Parean noticed a templar covering the body of a young elven mage. Her heart sank when she caught a glimpse of the girl's blonde hair. "No! Eira!" She screamed, running into the room and ripping the sheet back. Relief flooded her mind as she realized that the body was not Eira's after all. Staring into the girl's glassy, lifeless eyes she whispered, "Forgive me." She placed her hand gently on the girl's still form, "Dareth shiral, Da'len. May Falon'Din guide you safely through The Beyond." Carefully replacing the sheet over the mage's body, she rose and found Loghain standing beside her.

"Someone you knew?" Loghain asked softly.

Parean glanced down at the girl's body, "No. I thought...I thought she was someone else."

Loghain placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Perhaps you should join the others at the inn. I know returning here was difficult enough for you. There is no need for you to endure all this."

Resisting her overwhelming urge to hug him tightly, Parean looked at him and smiled, "Thank you, but that's not necessary. I need to speak with Muirne and Eira...make sure they're well, and find out what has happened." She sighed heavily, "Come. I think I may know where to find Muirne."

They entered the main section of the library and were shocked at the sight. The bodies of several hideously deformed creatures were scattered around the room. "Abominations..." Parean breathed, sickened at the thought.

"These...things...were once human?" Loghain uttered, unable to believe the vile beings lying before him were anything other than monsters. They were massive; long, sinewy arms and legs with an upper body that spread out to twice the width of a normal persons. Large, round yellow eyes stared blankly back at him from their small, misshapen heads. Several bulbous pustules leaked a revolting substance that Loghain did not care to identify.

Parean nodded sadly, horrified by the sight. "Yes, they were either mages or templars who had succumbed to a demon possessing their body. That tells me one thing...blood magic may be involved." She hurried through the room, anxious to find Muirne.

Loghain trailed behind her as she turned to enter the next section of the library. He very nearly ran into her when she stopped abruptly, staring across the room. In the far corner, he saw what appeared to be a mage and a templar locked in a passionate kiss.

"What in the name of Andraste..." Parean gasped.

Instantly, the couple separated and stared back at the newcomers. The templar seemed startled while the mage appeared confused, studying both Loghain and Parean intently.

"Parean? Is that you?" The mage asked hesitantly.

Without a word, Parean walked briskly across the room and stood in front of the mage. Her healing aura glowed brightly as she slowly passed her hand around the mage's head. "Hmmm...no fever and I see no injuries to her head." She let her hand drop, a wry smile crossing her face, "Are you certain you're Muirne? Public displays of affection, especially in the midst of chaos, are so...unlike you." Parean could not contain her laughter when Muirne shot her a frustrated look. "Sorry, cousin. I couldn't resist."

"Yes...I know all too well, cousin." Muirne sighed as the two embraced. "Try harder next time, will you?"

Parean shrugged mockingly, "Were I to do that, you would think me in need of a healer."

The templar smiled warmly, placing a hand on Parean's shoulder. Before he could speak, the scraping sound of a sword being quickly freed from its scabbard drew their attention. In the time it took to draw a breath, Loghain crossed the room; the tip of his sword pressing into the templar's throat.

"Release her, Templar." Loghain seethed; his voice low and commanding. "You have no authority over this mage."

Parean laid a gentle hand on Loghain's extended arm, "It's all right, Logh..." she stopped herself before saying his name, "...Warden Commander, this is Knight Commander Cullen and Acting First Enchanter Muirne."

Loghain slowly sheathed his sword, "So long as he knows his place," he scoffed. "I will brook no harm to befall anyone under my command."

"I assure you Teyrn...forgive me, Warden Commander Loghain, I intended no such thing. Parean is an old friend and I merely sought to greet her accordingly." Cullen stated matter-of-factly, giving Loghain a templar's cross-armed bow.

"Yes...we shall see..." he muttered. He took a step back, and then stood there glaring icily at Cullen, his arms crossed over his chest.

Cullen turned again to Parean, "Well, _that_ was bracing," he smiled warmly, "charming fellow, your commander."

Parean laughed softly, "You get used to him after awhile."

"Indeed..." Cullen flashed a stern look at Loghain, "We shall see..."

Muirne stood in stony silence; her large, chocolate-colored eyes fixed on Loghain with an intensity that Parean knew well. She was watching him, studying every gesture, listening carefully to every word he spoke. _'Perhaps she is attempting to understand my fascination with him,'_ Parean hoped in vain. As expected, Muirne looked at her and sighed quietly, her long, wavy dark brown hair brushing against her robe as she slowly shook her head. _'Sorry, Loghain. It appears that you may have a difficult time dealing with Muirne.'_

"On to business then," Loghain said flatly, "we heard news of an uprising. What has occurred and how has it affected the templar and mage forces?"

Cullen stared pointedly at Loghain, "There was an...incident...yes. But, as you can see, it has been quelled." He motioned for them to follow, "Come, let us go to the meeting chamber and we can discuss it further."

They climbed the stairs to the second floor, which housed the mages and guest quarters, the stockroom, the First Enchanter's office and the meeting chamber. As they approached, Muirne stopped Cullen with a gentle stroke of his arm. "Why don't you and the Warden Commander go on ahead to the chamber? I will join you shortly as I wish to speak with Parean in private first."

Cullen smiled warmly at her, "Of course," he replied, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. He motioned for Loghain to enter the chamber, "This way Warden Commander."

Muirne noticed Loghain glance tentatively at Parean, "What is it, Warden Commander. Do you believe that I wish to harm my cousin as well?" She spoke with controlled contempt.

"Of course not," Loghain muttered as he turned to face Parean, "you know where I'll be should you require me."

Parean gave him a quick salute, "Yes, Warden Commander." She watched as he entered the meeting chamber with Cullen before turning to follow Muirne to her quarters.

"It is good to see you, Parean." Muirne said as she hugged her cousin, her relief more than evident in her tone, "After we received news of the defeat at Ostagar and heard that all Grey Wardens had been slaughtered, I lost hope of seeing you again."

Parean smiled sadly, "I was very nearly killed. Alistair, my fellow warden, and I barely escaped. We only survived with the help of Flemeth. Her daughter, Morrigan, travels with us now."

Muirne cocked a curious eyebrow, "The Witch of the Wilds aided you? For what purpose?"

"I don't know," Parean shrugged, "perhaps The Blight threatens her as much as everyone else."

"Perhaps," Muirne stared at Parean thoughtfully, "take care...this, Morrigan, may have motives yet unspoken."

"I trust her, Muirne." Parean looked at her sheepishly, "She actually reminds me of you in a way."

Muirne gave her a questioning look, "I am neither a maleficar nor an apostate or abomination. Just how is it she reminds you of me?"

Parean blushed slightly knowing how Muirne would react to her answer. "Because, like you, she is everything I wish to be but cannot; strong, self-assured, confident and always in control." She sighed heavily, "I'll never be that way."

"Stop it, Parean!" Muirne took her cousin by the arm and shook her gently, "You know how I dislike it when you speak of yourself in that manner." She looked her in the eyes, "You _are_ strong and you can learn control. You just allow yourself to be defeated too easily."

"So you and Irving have always told me," Parean replied as she began to pace the room, "but I've never been able to learn it. I'm still a constant, unpredictable danger to everyone around me." She threw her arms up in frustration, "Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep myself in control in battle, especially with the Archdemon and darkspawn screaming in my head?"

Muirne walked over to her dressing table and opened a small box, "Here...perhaps this will help." She motioned for Parean to join her. When she reached the dressing table, Muirne held out a necklace made of pearl, silverite and sapphire supporting an amulet bearing the symbol of two eagles; the Amell Family Crest.

Parean gawked at the necklace, running her finger slowly over its surface, "My father told me about these amulets. They are given to the Amell women when they come of age." She stared at Muirne in confusion, "How...where did you get it?"

"Cullen..." Muirne said flatly, a hint of annoyance in her voice, "He was...interested...in learning about my parents, so he did some discreet researching." Her eyes turned toward the ground, "It seems he has found my parents."

Shocked by the revelation, Parean stammered, "Found...your parents? But wasn't your father sent away and didn't your mother die in childbirth?"

Muirne continued calmly, still staring at the floor, "My father was sent to Nevarra. My mother..." she paused, taking a long, deep breath, "my mother...is very much alive."

Parean was speechless for a long moment, "Alive? Where is she? Have you tried to contact them?"

"She is in Antiva," she raised her eyes to meet Parean's. Her expression was blank; she was in complete control of her emotions, "Why would I contact them? That is in the past."

 _'Because if I were given another chance to see my parents, nothing would keep me from them.'_ Parean knew it was pointless to continue, so she returned her gaze to the Amell Amulet. "So where did he find the amulet?"

"In his research he found that a Lothering family named 'Hawke' had ties to the Amell Family. He went to their home but found it abandoned; fleeing the darkspawn no doubt. As he searched, he found them in one of the rooms." She held out the necklace to Parean, "This...is for you."

Parean took the necklace, holding it gingerly in her hands, "Cullen brought this for you...should you not keep it?" A thought struck her, "Wait...found them?"

Muirne reached into her robe and pulled out the matching amulet, "I have one as well." She carefully placed the necklace back under her robe.

Clasping the amulet tightly, Parean began to quietly chant, a soft white aura surrounding her hands:

> _I am peaceful, I am strong_  
>  _Though dark may seem so long._  
>  _For day must follow every night,_  
>  _Everything is alright._  
>  _Nervous anxiety, you are dead._  
>  _Lord and lady, soothe my head._  
>  _Bring me to your calming peace_  
>  _As I will, so mote it be._

When she finished her chant, the amulet glowed brightly for a moment, and then returned to normal. Carefully, Parean slipped the necklace over her head. She could feel the disapproving stare from Muirne burning through her. "I know...I know...you disapprove of my enchanting the amulet with my mind control incantation. _'It shows a disturbing lack of control.'_ You've told me that enough during our lifetime." She held out her hands; her expression one of helplessness, "What else am I to do, Muirne. I am 24 years old. If the lessons you and Irving provided have not shown results by now, they never will. I would much rather rely on this enchantment than unexpectedly incinerate my companions during a battle."

Muirne took Parean's hands and smiled warmly, "Just because I disapprove of your actions, does not mean I am blind to your situation. I want to help you as I can, and I knew you would put this amulet to good use."

Parean hugged her cousin tightly, "Thank you Muirne." She drew back, laughing softly, "You have always been my protector; my staunch defender," she looked at her curiously, "why is that? As the elder of us, I would think that would be my place."

Before Muirne could answer, Parean felt a surge of electricity course through her body, making her hair stand on end. A blast of icy wind surrounded her head, freezing her hair into place. A cheery voice chimed in from the doorway, "Because Muirne has always been a glutton for punishment." 

A high-pitched giggle came from behind Parean as she raised her hand and blasted her head with a short heat wave, melting the ice and drying her hair. "Eira..." she chuckled, slowly turning to face the young elven mage. She smiled brightly and extended her arms to the girl. 

Eira bounded toward Parean; her short, golden blonde hair bouncing around her pointed ears and her soft grey eyes dancing with excitement. "Firebug!" she yelled, leaping into Parean's embrace and knocking them both to the ground.

"I guess I don't need to ask how you're doing," Parean laughed as she dusted off her robe.

"Just as bubbly...and irritating...as always," Muirne sighed, shaking her head. "Is it really appropriate to be playing pranks, given the current situation?"

Eira's face crumpled into a smirk as she stuck her tongue out at Muirne. "Irving always says, _'We should seize moments of levity, especially in troubled times.'_ " She smiled mischievously at Muirne, "Some of us could use a little more humor in our lives."

Parean snickered quietly, throwing a sly wink at Eira, "Yes, it's about as appropriate as exploring the Knight Commander's mouth with your tongue." She didn't flinch at Muirne's horrified look, "I know that the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander need to work together, but I'm certain that's not what The Chantry had in mind."

Muirne's formidable control was being sorely tested as evidenced by her frustrated expression, "That is entirely different." She gave both mages a glare that even Loghain would be hard pressed to match.

Parean's warm gaze fell on her young cousin, "Muirne, I am pleased that you have finally found happiness. No one is more deserving of it than you." She rested a hand on her shoulder, "Cullen is a wonderful man; the only one worthy of your affections. But tell me, how is it that you can openly display your relationship? Mages are forbidden to 'cavort', even with other mages, and templars take a vow of chastity."

Eira tugged on Parean's arm excitedly, "Oh Parean! You have missed out on so many things! You wouldn't believe what has happened over the weeks you've been gone."

"Many things have changed since you left, cousin." A slight smile touched Muirne's lips as she spoke, "Your 'incident' with Ser Alrik had been a major focus of discussion between Irving and Greagoir for many months. There were many templars that were accomplices to or benefited from Ser Alrik's deeds."

"I know," Parean replied with a shudder, "I chanced to meet several of them on the road when we were traveling here."

Muirne gave Parean a sympathetic look as she continued, "Eventually, after he was sent away, other mages came to Irving detailing their ordeals with these templars as well. Irving and Greagoir determined that change was necessary to protect the mages."

An expression of disbelief crossed Parean's face, "What change? I saw nothing in the months before I was conscripted. Only the offending templars retaliating in protest of Ser Alrik's expulsion."

"It occurred after you left. Irving has always felt that mages should be allowed to control themselves. He made the argument that if they had this right, Ser Alrik would not have been able to..." Muirne's voice broke slightly; a mixture of the anger and pain she felt over the ordeal Parean had to endure, "...to harm so many. Greagoir finally agreed and we were slowly given more freedoms. One of those being the ability to openly fall in love, as long as stringent steps are taken to prevent conception."

Parean was hesitant to accept what Muirne was saying, "And this change happened that quickly, with no resistance? Surely The Chantry has tried to put a stop to it."

"Most of the mages and templars actually favored the idea. Some resisted but over the last few weeks, many of them have seen the benefits. Attacks on mages have reduced to almost non-existent, and any that do occur are dealt with fairly. The Chantry has been mostly unaware of our 'experiment', satisfied with Irving and Greagoir's assurances that they were handling the situation. At least until the uprising a week ago." Muirne's expression turned solemn, "I fear that this new found freedom may be partially to blame."

Eira's look turned sour as she sighed in exasperation, "Muirne, giving mages the freedoms granted to every human by The Maker is not at fault for the raving scheme of a madman."

Overwhelmed with all that she had learned, Parean looked from Eira to Muirne; her confusion was obvious as she continued to question her cousin, "What caused this uprising? What has happened to Irving and Greagoir?"

Both Eira and Muirne were silent for several moments; their faces long and drawn with sadness. Tears rolling down her cheeks, Eira's voice cracked with emotion, "Irving was badly injured and Greagoir..." Her words caught in her throat.

"Greagoir is dead," Muirne replied somberly, "He was killed while attempting to protect Irving from Uldred."

Parean's mind was whirling, "Greagoir...is dead? By Uldred's hand?"

"Yes...Uldred was angered that the Grand Cleric refused to allow the mages to be of more assistance to the army. He blamed her for the defeat at Ostagar and sought to use the panic that ensued as well as our current freedoms to gain total autonomy for The Circle. Irving and Greagoir...disagreed. They wanted to prove to the Grand Cleric that mages and templars could work in harmony to govern themselves. Uldred wanted to expel The Chantry and templars completely." Muirne's features turned hard, "What they didn't know was that Uldred was apparently the leader of a powerful group of blood mages."

"Senior Mage Uldred was...a blood mage?" Parean was floored at the revelation. In all the years she had known him, she had never seen any indication that he was involved in forbidden magic. She sighed heavily, "Hence the abominations and that you and Cullen now lead The Circle."

Muirne nodded her head in acknowledgment, "Yes. Cullen and I are attempting to use this incident as proof that mages and templars, working together, can handle their own affairs. We shall see if the Grand Cleric is amenable to the idea."

"How does Irving fair?"

"He yet lives but is very weak," Muirne replied matter-of-factly. "Wynne has assured me that he will recover but he may not be fit enough to continue as First Enchanter. Once he is sufficiently able, he will appoint me as the new First Enchanter."

A scowl spread across Parean's features at the mention of Senior Enchanter Wynne. "Humph...I pity Irving being forced to listen to Wynne's constant self-serving prattle. I'm sure he has probably heard his fill of her speeches about how he should have known better..." she grunted harshly, "Sodding hag..."

Eira gasped at Parean's outburst, "Parean! How can you say that about Wynne?"

Parean's skin flushed a bright crimson; her face contorted in anger, "Because Wynne has ruined my life from the moment I met her! She has sought to constantly remind me of how dangerous I am and that, were it not for her intervention, I would be either dead or tranquil!" With her anger spiraling out of control, a soft white light began to emanate from her amulet; her enchantment working to calm her mind.

Frightened by the shear rage in Parean's words, Eira moved quickly to Muirne's side, "What's wrong with her? Why does she feel such hatred for Wynne?"

Muirne put a comforting arm around Eira, "There are many things you don't know about the history between them. It's a subject that Parean does not openly discuss, for obvious reasons."

Parean breathed in deeply as her emotions came back under control, "I'm sorry that I frightened you Eira. It was not my intention. Being here has brought back many unpleasant memories."

Eira approached Parean and wrapped her arms around her, "It's alright. I've just never seen you in such a state before." Drawing back, she asked sheepishly, "May I ask what happened between you?"

Parean smiled warmly at her elven friend, "Of course, Eira. If you truly wish to know then I will tell you."

A moment of uncertainly clouded Eira's eyes before she softly whispered, "Yes, I would like to know."

Pausing briefly to make certain that her anger was in check, Parean relayed the reasoning for her bitterness towards Wynne. "You know how it is that I came to The Circle, yes?" Eira nodded her head and Parean continued, "Well, Greagoir and Irving argued over what should be done with me, Greagoir wanting me to be made tranquil and Irving favoring teaching me to control my power with himself as my mentor. Wynne holds sway with both and agreed that I should be made tranquil." 

Eira's eyes widened, "She agreed to that? Tranquility is worse than death!"

Parean breathed softly, "I know, but she felt that I posed too large a risk to The Circle. Irving made an impassioned argument that I was but a child who, with proper training, would be no danger. Greagoir finally relented but only under the condition that I would be made tranquil at the time of my harrowing if I had not learned some modicum of control."

"But why did that cause you to hate Wynne? Because she agreed with Greagoir?"

Muirne and Parean exchanged knowing glances, neither one taking their eyes off the other, "No, Eira. It's because of what she did later. Using Muirne as the example of how he could teach me control, Irving accepted Greagoir's terms and began my training."

"Why would he use Muirne?" Eira looked at Muirne with an expression of utter confusion.

Parean smiled at her cousin, "Because Muirne and I share the same level of power. The difference is that she, even at her young age, had an extraordinary control over it. Irving was teaching her to hone that ability and felt he could do the same with me once he discovered what it was that triggered my full power. He learned in short measure that losing control of my emotions unleashed my power. Greagoir and Wynne believed me to be emotionally unstable and insisted on tranquility. Irving enchanted an amulet that would negate any strong emotions and thus keep my power in check until I was able to master them myself. Wynne suggested that, as a precaution, I be sterilized to prevent the passing of my ability to any 'accidental' children I may bear. They both consented and Wynne performed the procedure. She kept telling me how this was for my own good and that she would do the same to Muirne, were she able to, because our family, with its history of powerful magic, is just too dangerous to exist."

Her mouth agape and her soft grey eyes brimming with tears, Eira stared at Parean with a look of absolute disgust on her face. She stood there, speechless, as her mind tried to reconcile what she had heard with the kind, almost motherly, Wynne she had known for the majority of her 20 years.

Parean sighed dejectedly, "That, coupled with 16 years of listening to her preach to me about my family being cursed by The Maker, how careful I must be because demons will seek me out like a beacon to obtain my power and watching her tell others about the dangers of getting too close to me is what made me bitter towards her." Looking squarely into Eira's eyes, she pulled back her hair, "But it was this..." she seethed, pointing to her scars, "leaving me with a permanent reminder of Ser Alrik that caused me to hate her."

Eira threw her arms around her friend and hugged her tightly, "I'm so sorry. I...I...that is so horrible! I never thought Wynne capable of such insensitivity...such cruelty."

Parean hugged her in return, "Thank you Eira." Stepping back, she brushed a few stray tears from Eira's cheeks, "It's all in the past now, right? One good thing about my becoming a Grey Warden is that I never have to deal with Wynne again." She smiled warmly, "Now I just have to learn to deal with Loghain. No small feat, believe me," she quipped. Turning her attention back to Muirne, "Speaking of Loghain, you should probably get to your meeting with him and Cullen. I imagine he's probably quite irritated at the delay by now." Parean chuckled, "He's not one for the niceties of diplomacy to begin with, but it's made worse when he's kept waiting too long."

Muirne scoffed, "Let him wait. It will do him good to learn that not everyone will cater to his every whim simply because he is Loghain Mac Tir." She turned to face Eira, "Will you excuse us, Eira? There is something I must discuss with Parean in private."

Although she did not want to leave, Eira knew there was no point in arguing with Muirne so she simply frowned and muttered a frustrated, "If you wish," before turning to leave. Before closing the door behind her, she called out, "You had better not leave without saying goodbye, Parean!"

"I won't, Eira!" Parean called back. After hearing the door click shut, Parean turned back to Muirne, "This must be very important or very personal for you to be so secretive. What do you wish to discuss?"

Muirne gave Parean a stern look, "You love him, don't you?" she said bluntly.

Taken aback by the abruptness of her question, Parean hesitated for a moment, "Love who?"

"Don't play games with me, Parean. Did you think I wouldn't notice how you looked at him? The way you spoke to him as he threatened Cullen? I say again, you love him, don't you?" came the irritated reply.

Parean throw up her hands in resignation, "Yes, Muirne. I do. I love him. To the very depths of my soul. Is that what you want to hear?" She turned sharply away from her cousin.

"How did this happen?" Muirne asked pointedly. "I know that you had developed a fascination with him, with his life, but love? Are you certain that you are not confusing love with obsession?"

Parean chuckled softly, "Is there a difference between a strongly felt love and obsession?" Gazing towards the ceiling, she shook her head mournfully, "No, sometimes I feel there is no difference." Her hair fell gently around her face as she cast her eyes back to the floor, "Many things have changed for me since I left The Tower, Muirne."

Moving closer, Muirne rested her hand on Parean's shoulder, "Tell me, what has happened to you?"

Relieved to be with the one person she could speak openly with, the one who knew all of her secrets, Parean wept freely, divulging all that had occurred over the past several weeks. She held nothing back, revealing every thought, every feeling she had experienced since joining the Wardens...since meeting Loghain. Running her fingers through her hair, she yelled in frustration, "It's gone, Muirne! My Fade World, my sanctuary, the only place I was ever truly happy! One moment we were together, in love and looking forward to a long, wonderful future and the next...nothing."

Muirne's tone softened as she spoke, "I'm sorry, Parean. I know how much that place meant to you but you knew that it could not last forever. One day you would have to face the real world."

Parean drew a ragged breath, "I know, but did it have to end so soon after he arrived in it? Could I not be allowed to enjoy being with him for more than a few hours? Why must I always be the butt of The Maker's cruel jokes?" Her shoulders slumped, the weight of her grief almost too much to bear, "It doesn't matter. Now, all I can do is try to distance myself from him. Perhaps then I can bury my feelings and end this torment."

Muirne was shocked by Parean's decision, "If you truly love him, then why are you pulling away?"

Spinning around to face her, Parean took hold of Muirne's arms and shook her; an expression of desperation and hopelessness distorting her face, "Because I cannot be with him, Muirne! It is too painful...I...I cannot bear to love him from a distance anymore. Can't you understand that?"

Her features hardening, Muirne's brown eyes stared back at Parean with intense aggravation, "What I don't understand is why you choose to waste this opportunity. Parean, you have the chance for freedom that I never had. Take hold of it. To love and be loved is something most mages never experience."

"But..." Parean stammered, "It's not like that. I am merely another warden under his command."

"Tell him how you feel." Muirne interjected gently.

"I...I cannot..." Parean countered, "What if he rejects me? I couldn't bear to lose him again."

"If he does, then leave him to the Archdemon," A sudden sadistic smile touched Muirne's lips, "...or leave him to me..."

"I think he'd have a better chance with The Archdemon. Were I to leave him to you, there wouldn't be enough left to bury." The cousins burst into laughter, easing the tension of the moment and lightening their moods.

Muirne hugged Parean for a long moment. She gave her cousin a warm smile, "Just give some consideration to what I've said."

Parean nodded, "I will. You know I always take your gentle rebukes to heart."

Muirne snickered, "Well, I imagine he's waited long enough. I must go and see what 'your man' has to say."

Parean smiled and patted her lightly on the back, "Good luck. He's probably fuming by now." She shook her head solemnly, "On second thought, perhaps I should have wished him luck in dealing with you." Parean followed Muirne as she exited her chambers, "I'll wait here for your return. That way I'll be close enough to pick up the pieces after the explosion."

To pass the time, Parean decided to read one of the books that Muirne kept in her chambers. As she walked toward the bookcase, she noticed one book laying upside down on the table next to a large wing-backed chair. A small folded piece of parchment with her name written on it lay on top of the book. It was a note from Muirne:

_'Parean,_

_I knew you would be exceedingly bored with the volumes in my personal library so I brought this from downstairs. I know you'll enjoy it, considering you've read it at least a hundred times, though, by this point you probably know more about the subject matter than the author!_

_Muirne'_

Turning the book over, Parean's face lit up and she laughed as she recognized it immediately. The cover was embossed with a large yellow Wyvern and the title _'Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir: An Unofficial Biography'_ was written in gold leaf below it. She curled up in the chair and began thumbing through the pages, stopping on those she had dog-eared on previous readings. _'It's no wonder that so many harbor such a hero worship of him, the author's version of Loghain is so unlike the real man,'_ she mused silently. _'Of course, it's his own fault for not allowing anyone to write an official biography.'_

She had asked him once why that was, _'Because people do not wish to hear the truth of a man, they only desire the legend. My life is a short story, not a novel, and a boring one at that. I was born in a town no one has heard of and doesn't exist any longer. My mother was raped and killed by an Orlesian bastard. My father and I were forced from our home and became poachers. I was saddled with the responsibility of protecting an idiot boy who I met by happenstance that turned out to be the rightful king. He dragged me into a war that I had no desire to fight. I gave up the woman I loved for the good of my country. After the war, I became Teyrn of Gwaren, married a commoner who bore my daughter who would become queen. The end.'_

Engrossed in reading her book, Parean was startled back to reality when Eira came running into the room, calling her name, "Parean! I think you'd better get to the meeting chamber, and quickly!"

Placing the book on the table, Parean stood and hurried over to Eira, "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

A sardonic grin spread across Eira's face, "I just saw Muirne and Loghain speaking outside the chamber, and it doesn't sound good."

"I wouldn't expect it to be, Eira. Cullen, Muirne and Loghain were speaking about distressing issues. If their conversation required my presence, they would have sent for me," Parean reassured her.

"That's just it; Loghain and Muirne are talking about you, from what little I overheard." Eira chuckled lightly, "I don't want to worry you, but Muirne is speaking _very_ quietly and _very_ politely to him."

"Oh sweet blessed Andraste," Parean sighed, "You're right. I'd better get there before I really do have to pick up the pieces." With that, she rushed out of the room and down the hallway to the meeting chamber, Eira following behind her.

As they approached the chamber, Parean saw the pair, both with stony, blank faces, deep in conversation. She heard Loghain's deep, gravelly voice ground out a harsh, _'You are overstepping your bounds, Acting First Enchanter. Your being her relative is of no consequence. How I choose to command my soldiers is none of your concern.'_

She stopped short, causing Eira to run into her back. _'Please, someone tell me this is not happening,'_ she thought as her mind raced. Motioning for Eira to be silent, she listened nervously to Muirne response.

Eira's description of Muirne's demeanor had been accurate. Parean knew that when Muirne's tone became overly quiet and polite, she was at her most threatening. She had to strain her hearing to make out the thinly veiled threat, _'For whatever reason, my cousin holds you in high regard. If she is broken more than she is now by your actions, you had better die slaying the Archdemon because nothing else will save you from my wrath.'_

Before Loghain had a chance to respond, Parean came rushing up to them, "Is everything alright?" She wore the most sincere smile she could manage.

Muirne's normally chocolate-colored eyes were now almost completely black; her voice cold and impassive, "Yes, cousin. The Warden Commander and I were just finishing our discussion before returning to my chambers to get you."

Loghain nodded stiffly; his icy-blue eyes had, once again, turned a steely grey, "Yes, the Acting First Enchanter has several strong opinions and was quite insistent on being heard." His tone was detached and emotionless.

 _'And you're both a couple of sodding liars,'_ Parean grumbled inwardly. "Excellent, good to know that everyone is getting along so well." She quipped sarcastically as she quickly changed the subject, "The meeting went well, I hope?"

"The mages and templars have agreed to honor the treaty and aid us in battling The Blight," Loghain informed her. He motioned for her to follow, "Come, Junior Warden, we are done here."

"By your order, Warden Commander," Parean responded, "with your permission, I would make my goodbyes."

"Yes, of course," Loghain muttered with a wave of his hand, "make it quick, however, as we have much work left to do."

Parean gave him a formal salute, "Thank you, Warden Commander. I shall not tarry long." She watched as he turned to leave before turning to face Muirne and Eira.

Muirne's features were still hard as she stared at Loghain's retreating form, "Parean," she whispered, "how can you tolerate such a man. He is insufferable."

"I know, but I have little choice in the matter. Besides, he's not always like this." Parean smiled sadly at her cousin, "Please, I only have a moment, let's not waste it by arguing." She hugged her cousin for what may be the last time, "Goodbye, Muirne. I will hold good thoughts about what you and Cullen are attempting to accomplish." She gave her a knowing look, "And I promise to think on what we discussed."

"Goodbye, Firebug," Eira choked on the words as she hugged Parean. "Maker's blessings be upon you."

Parean smiled warmly, "Goodbye, Eira." She winked at her young friend, "You keep bringing those moments of levity. We can all do with a bit of light-heartedness in these dark times."

As if on cue, they heard what sounded like armor clanking followed by a loud **'crash'**. The three women ran down the hallway to investigate the noise, stopping abruptly at the sight of Loghain sitting in the middle of what appeared to be a grease slick while two templars struggled to help him stand.

Parean turned to look at Eira who was laughing hysterically, "Eira...a grease spell? You do realize that I have to travel with him? His mood was foul enough already." She tried to sound disapproving but her expression betrayed the amusement she felt.

"I didn't do it, Parean," she giggled, "I would never prank him. He's too scary." Eira gestured toward Muirne.

"Don't be ridiculous, Eira. Muirne would never..." Parean gasped when she saw the very self-satisfied and slightly evil grin that brightened Muirne's features, "No...Muirne? This is your doing?" She could not suppress a shocked laugh.

Muirne looked at Parean and shrugged, "He had it coming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Oh, and the grease spell? That was Morninglight's idea as well...lol...I just couldn't resist using it...cause, really, he did kinda deserve it..._


	18. Choosing to Risk the Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Parean and Loghain have some potentially painful choices to make...let's hope they are the right ones..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This chapter is all about making the choice whether or not to risk being hurt in order to potentially gain something better._
> 
> _*SPOILER ALERT* There is a spoiler for The Stolen Throne; however it's pretty much the same one as the previous chapter, just a little more detailed. I only included it because it seemed fitting to what was happening and I see it as a defining moment in Loghain's life (one he would really rather forget)._

**Chapter 18 – Choosing To Risk The Pain**

Loghain silently seethed as they left The Tower and headed toward The Spoiled Princess Inn. _'I cannot see the back of this place too soon.'_ They sat in silence as Kester ferried them back across the lake to the shore. He was keenly aware of Parean's attempt to contain her amusement with Muirne's prank. 

After disembarking at the dock, Loghain walked quickly toward the inn; his long, hurried strides forcing Parean to jog to keep pace with him. Roughly grabbing the handle, he flung the door open and briskly gestured for Parean to enter. The inn was sparsely populated with townsfolk seeking to drown their sorrows in whiskey and ale. The scent of roasted boar wafted in the air as several of the patrons chatted over their afternoon meals. Loghain's only thought was to buy a bottle of Antivan Brandy, retreat to a solitary corner of the room and get quietly drunk. Even the amusing expression on Parean's face, her nose crinkling from the onslaught of scents, was not enough to lift his mood.

"Loghain!" Alistair called from a table across the room.

At the sound of his name, the room fell silent. All eyes turned toward him as the two of them approached Morrigan and Alistair. A group of men whispered quietly, occasionally casting a sideways glance at Loghain.

"Have you secured our rooms?" Loghain asked stiffly, taking the seat beside Alistair.

Noting the immense scowl on Loghain's face, Alistair looked at him sheepishly, "Well…yes and no."

"What do you mean, yes and no?" Parean sat down next to Loghain, giving Alistair a questioning look.

"Tis nothing of consequence." Morrigan glared at Alistair, "Twould seem that we will be sharing a room tonight."

Parean turned a deep shade of red, matching the crimson flush on Alistair's face, "Sharing…a room?" She quickly looked around the room then leaned in and whispered, "All of us? In one room?"

"Y...yes…" Alistair stammered, "It appears that they only had the one room left, and I had to argue with him for that."

Loghain sighed in annoyance. "That will suffice," was his only response.

Alistair stared at him, dumbstruck, "How can you say that? We can't all stay in one room! That's…" he swallowed hard, "…that's highly inappropriate!"

"Privacy for a solider is a rare luxury," Loghain replied sternly, "there is no place for modesty. You learn to make do with what you have available."

"Bu...But…I" Alistair stuttered weakly, completely embarrassed at the thought.

Loghain's patience was wearing dangerously thin, "Parean and Morrigan will take the bed and you shall sleep on the floor." His eyes narrowed, his stare deadly serious, "unless you prefer to sleep outside in your tent and leave the ladies in our company to the lustful imaginings of the drunken rabble?"

Alistair glared at him, "Certainly not!" He raised a curious eyebrow, "Wait…where are you going to sleep?"

"What I do is my own affair," Loghain grumbled, his eyes shrouded, "I am quite accustomed to remaining awake throughout the night."

Parean looked at him blankly, attempting to read his expression to no avail, "You need rest as much as any of us. Why would you not sleep?"

Ignoring her question, Loghain continued on, "Have you spoken with the people? What have you learned?"

"Nothing much," Alistair shrugged, "there were only a few people here when we arrived. I spoke with a couple of farmers who were already well on their way to getting drunk. They mentioned something about some attacks that have occurred but nothing really coherent." He nodded toward a small group of men a few feet away. "Those men came in a short time ago. I was about to speak with them when you arrived."

When Loghain turned in their direction, their faces became somber and their nervous whispering increased. One man stared back at him, his sad eyes shone with what seemed to be pity. He had the air of a man in mourning. _'Why does he look at me that way?'_ he wondered inwardly as he turned back to Alistair. "I will go and speak with them." Hesitating for a moment, he added glumly, "But first, I need a drink."

Loghain rose from his chair, removing his gauntlets and setting them on the table. He approached the bar, calling for a goblet of Chasind Sack Mead. Raising the goblet to his lips, he took a long pull of the potent brew. His mouth drew back in a hard line, a slight hiss escaping his lips as the bitter mead traced fiery trails down his throat. Shaking his head slightly, he felt his cheeks flush with the warm sensation of liquid fire that was coursing through his body. Loghain sighed with relief at the, albeit temporary, purging of the events at the Tower from his mind.

They watched as Loghain took another large swallow from his goblet. Alistair leaned toward Parean, "What's the matter with him?"

Parean briefly considered telling them of the happenings at the Tower. Knowing that it would only worsen Loghain's mood, she simply sighed, "Let's just say that Loghain and Muirne didn't see eye to eye."

Alistair cocked his head to one side, "I take it things went badly then? Are the mages refusing to help us?"

Parean smiled at him weakly, "No, both the mages and the templars have agreed to join our cause. Loghain's current mood is more a reflection of a private conversation between himself and Muirne." She shook her head solemnly, "I warned him not to trifle with her. She is not one to back down from something she believes strongly."

Morrigan's yellow eyes danced with amusement, "I believe I would like your cousin very much. For her words alone to have such an effect on one such as he is…interesting to say the least."

Alistair glowered at Morrigan, "Oh yes, very interesting. Just what we needed…Loghain to be even more agitated than normal." He looked at Parean curiously, "Just what was this conversation about?"

"Nothing of importance," she said, brushing his question aside, "Suffice it to say that it was…unpleasant for both of them."

Before Alistair could respond, Parean caught a movement from the corner of her eye. She turned to see the man who had been staring at Loghain approach him at the bar. "What's going on there?" she murmured, gesturing toward the two. The man was speaking in hushed tones to Loghain as he drank the remaining alcohol from the goblet. Her blood ran cold when he suddenly froze in place before slowly setting the goblet on the bar. She saw his hand twitch as his fingers tightened until the goblet shattered, sending shards flying across the bar. Loghain stared blankly toward the wall behind the bar as the frightened man retreated back to his companions.

"Maker's Breath! What just happened?" Alistair exclaimed loudly.

Parean quickly rose from the table, "Wait here. I'll find out what's going on."

Loghain's features were completely expressionless. Parean stood next to him for a long moment, waiting for him to speak. When he said nothing, she quietly asked, "Warden Commander?" She stopped short of continuing when his body stiffened. Taking his injured hand in hers, she removed the shards that were lodged in his skin and healed his wounds. She turned to look at him and found that he was staring down at her. Though his expression remained empty, Parean saw the sadness and hurt in his eyes and her heart ached for him. _'What did that man say to him to cause such a look?'_ she wondered. She yearned to comfort him, to hold him and ease the pain he was feeling but she was stubbornly resistant. Then, for the first time in her life, her heart spoke to her,

_'Now is not the time for your petty foolishness. Can you not see that he needs your compassion? He needs you, Parean. This is an opportunity for you to show him that you care. Seize upon it…you may not get another chance.'_

Mustering her courage, her mind screaming _'Don't be a fool!'_ , Parean took his hand in both of hers. She gazed into his eyes, "Loghain," she breathed softly. Her eyes softened as his body visibly relaxed. "Please, talk to me," she whispered gently, "what's wrong?" Her heart leaped into her throat as he gently squeezed her hand. "What did he say to you?"

Loghain stared at her a moment longer, "He wished to offer me his condolences…" he paused briefly before continuing; his normally rich, baritone voice now quiet and flat, "…on the death of the queen."

" _Anora_ …" Parean gasped, "no…it…it can't be true…" Her eyes brimmed with tears; her self-imposed defenses gone. She looked on him not as a solider would to her commander, but as a woman who desperately wanted to console the man she loves over the death of his only child. "Oh, Loghain…" her voice cracking with emotion as the breath caught in her throat, "I'm…I'm so sorry."

Loghain was deeply touched by her reaction. The deaths of Rowan, Celia and Maric had wounded him greatly, but nothing compared to the pain of losing his daughter. And yet, Parean's presence beside him, the gentle way she held his hand, eased the overwhelming grief that flowed from his broken heart. "Thank you," he whispered softly. His gaze held hers and he saw the anguished expression in her tear-filled eyes. Tiny droplets spilled onto her cheeks, leaving salty trails in their wake. Without thinking, he turned toward her, raising his free hand up to tenderly wipe away her tears. "Death is a common occurrence in times such as these," he said gently, "a soldier cannot mourn over every loss."

Parean closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his touch on her skin. Slowly her eyelids fluttered open and she saw the gratitude that filled his sad eyes. She stroked his hand lightly, her voice warm and soothing, "Perhaps a soldier cannot, but a father can grieve for his child." Drawing a ragged breath, Parean stared into his eyes with intensity, "And those who care for him mourn with him."

Loghain was at a loss. Too many emotions were whirling in his mind for him to truly comprehend the meaning of her words. There were so many things he wanted to say, feelings that he wished to express. "Parean…I…" he started, his words failing him.

" _Ahem_ …"

Caught up in the emotion of the moment, neither of them had noticed Alistair's approach. He stood beside Parean; his eyes were hard and his jaw firmly set as he glared fiercely at Loghain. "Things seem to be getting a little…intense…" Alistair made no attempt to hide the irritation in his voice. He looked down at Parean, "Just what, exactly, is going on here?"

Shocked at his tone, Parean gave Alistair an incredulous glance, _'If I didn't know better, I'd say he sounds almost…jealous.'_ She looked back toward Loghain. His eyes were still set upon her, completely ignoring Alistair's intrusion; his hand still gently clasping hers. 

"Well?" Alistair huffed insistently, crossing his arms over his chest.

Parean felt angered at Alistair's disruption, _'How dare he…coming over here and interrupting us with implied accusations as if something…insidious was happening,'_ she fumed. Turning back to face him, her eyes pierced his with all the bitterness and resentment she felt inside. "Loghain has just learned of Anora's death," she hissed furiously. Loghain's grip on her hand tightened and she soothingly stroked his hand with her thumb.

"What? Anora's…oh…" Alistair hemmed and hawed, embarrassed.

Regaining his composure, Loghain reluctantly slid his hand from Parean's grasp, "We must find out what has happened. We need more information on these attacks." He turned toward the group of men and motioned to the one who had spoken with him. "You…what do you know of the attacks that have occurred?"

The man rose from his seat and nervously approached Loghain, "O-only a little, y-your grace." He was clearly still unnerved over his previous interaction with Loghain.

"It's alright," Parean smiled at the man, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Please…um…I'm sorry, but I don't know your name."

"Darius," he murmured.

"Please Darius, just tell us what you know." Parean's sympathetic expression seemed to calm him.

"I know that four regions were attacked; Highever, Rainesfere, Redcliffe, and…" his words trailed off as he avoided Loghain's eyes, "…and Denerim."

"You're doing well, Darius," Parean gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, "now, attacked by whom? Darkspawn?"

"No, my lady…assassins. Rumor has it pegged as the Antivan Crows."

"Assassins…" Loghain hissed. "Tell me, what were the results of the attacks?"

Darius jumped at Loghain's question, "Highever was decimated, my lord. Teyrn Bryce, Teyrna Eleanor, Lord Fergus and Lady Losira…all dead." He sighed mournfully, "Even Lord Fergus's wife Oriana and their young son, Oren, perished."

"All of the Cousland's were killed?" Loghain uttered in shocked disbelief. "What of the Teyrnir? Who rules in Bryce's stead?"

Darius's lips curled into a sneer, "Arl Howe of Amaranthine serves as Teyrn of Highever until a landsmeet can be held."

"Have Rainesfere and Redcliffe fallen as well?" Alistair interjected. "Are Bann Teagan and Arl Eamon…dead?"

"No, my lord. Rainesfere suffered much damage but the assassins ceased their attack when it was discovered that Bann Teagan was not there. No one knows where he is, however." Darius's helpless expression fell on Alistair, "As to Redcliffe, there is only rumor and speculation. Word has it that Arl Eamon was mortally wounded in the attack but, somehow, he yet lives."

Loghain turned Darius to face him, the stony gaze in his icy blue eyes causing the man to shudder, "And Denerim?"

"I'm sorry, my lord, but there is no word at all from the palace. I've only heard whisperings that the assault on the palace was massive. It is said that the queen loosed a full quiver of arrows, killing many of the assassins before…" Darius dragged his eyes from Loghain's, turning them toward the ground, "…before she was felled."

_'Anora…my child…'_ Though he thought it impossible, Loghain's heart broke anew. "And Cailan…does the king live?"

Darius breathed a sigh of relief, "Yes, my lord. That is the only official word from Denerim, that King Cailan survived the assault." He looked at Loghain sadly, "I'm sorry, my lord, but that is all that I know."

"Thank you Darius." Parean whispered quietly, "you have been most helpful." With that, Darius bowed slightly and returned to his companions.

A heavy silence weighed on the three wardens as they re-joined Morrigan at their table. None of them spoke for several minutes, the surrealism of the moment slowly giving way to the harsh reality of the situation. Surprisingly, it was Morrigan who suddenly broke the stillness and tension in the air, "I, for one, do not believe it." They gawked at her outburst as she continued, "Tis unlikely that the queen would be slain so easily. I have seen her in battle. She is a formidable woman and an accomplished archer."

"She's right," Parean quickly agreed, looking toward Loghain with a hopeful gaze. "Loghain, Darius said that the news of her death was only a rumor. Perhaps it's a ruse to prevent another attack." She placed a hand on his arm, her voice full of determination, "We should leave for Denerim."

Loghain slowly turned toward her, his eyes hard with resolve, "Yes," he muttered as he stood from his chair, "we should leave immediately." Without another word, he headed for the door. He barely noticed the ruckus of his party's movements, knocking over their chairs and nearly toppling the table in their haste to follow him.

Once outside, Loghain called to the stable hands to prepare their horses for the journey. He gave one lad a few sovereigns to procure their provisions. After assuring himself that all was in order, he returned to the others. "We should be able to travel a fair distance before nightfall."

Parean smiled warmly at him, "Once we reach Denerim, we will learn the truth of the matter."

"We are not traveling to Denerim." Loghain had assumed his "General's Persona".

Alistair and Parean exchanged confused glances, "Not going to Denerim?" Parean exclaimed, completely befuddled. "What do you mean we're not going to Denerim? If not there, then where?"

"There is still a Blight to contend with," he stared at her dispassionately, "or have you forgotten that? We still have the treaties with the elves and the dwarves to affirm." Loghain's demeanor was detached; his tone stern, "Orzammar will be our destination."

Unable to fathom what he was thinking, Parean started to respond but Morrigan's snickering drew her attention, "How immensely practical of you." Parean's disapproving glare only succeeded in causing Morrigan to smirk, "Come now, Parean. Is his decision so very unexpected?" She gestured toward Loghain flippantly, "He is not a man to be easily dissuaded from his duty, regardless of the circumstance."

"Why go directly to Orzammar?" The challenge in Alistair's voice was unmistakable.

Loghain scowled at the impudence of Alistair's questioning his decision, "I do not need to explain my decision to you. Your understanding 'why' is not required; you need only follow my orders."

Alistair stared back at him insolently, "Shouldn't we go to Redcliffe and determine Arl Eamon's condition? Are they not also our allies?"

His eyes narrowing at Alistair's continued defiance, Loghain spat brashly, "I am certain that the soldiers in Redcliffe have matters well in hand. We shall go to The Arling _after_ we have finished with the dwarves in Orzammar."

"It's also the farthest away from Denerim you can possibly get, without leaving Ferelden altogether." Parean chided. "I don't understand your reasoning, Loghain. It's not like you to run away from something this important." She sighed dejectedly, "I would never have thought you…a coward."

Her words stung his pride but it was the disappointed look in her soft, clear blue eyes that wounded him the most. _'Yes, I am running away. I do not wish to look upon my daughter's dead body; to see what those sodding bastards did to her.'_ Loghain cursed under his breath, sharply turning his back to her as his mind suddenly flooded with visions of Anora lying on the cold stone floor of the palace; bloodied and lifeless. It was well known that many Crow assassins enjoyed performing vile, degrading acts upon their incapacitated victims, satisfying their depraved, lustful perversions before finally, one might even say mercifully, dispatching the poor soul. A multitude of images coursed through his thoughts; his imagination torturing him with the denigration that Anora may have suffered at the hands of her killers.

_'Maker, no…'_ he whimpered inwardly as the images began to change. Shutting his eyes tightly against the memory, he relived the horror of his mother being viciously raped and brutalized as he was forced to watch. The Orlesian Commander taunting him, laughing at the fact that he was helpless to save her. The sound of her screams, her uncontrollable sobbing as she begged her attackers to remove him from the sight of it. The images of her broken body, blood spurting from the angry, jagged wound where the bastard had casually slit her throat were all forever burned into his memory. 

_'Please, Maker, do not let it be that a similar fate befell Anora. I cannot bear the thought,'_ he silently pleaded.

"I'm sorry," Parean whispered, slowly walking up behind him. "I shouldn't have said that, I just…" she mumbled weakly, wanting to choose her words carefully, "You are no coward." She tentatively raised her hand, gingerly gripping his arm, "Loghain, I know the thought of going to Denerim now must be excruciatingly painful but we must know what's happened. We must see…"

" ** _ENOUGH!_** " Loghain ripped her hand from him, violently spinning around to face her. His icy blue eyes were ablaze with a muddle of emotions spanning from frustration to a deep despondency. " _There will be no insubordination under my command!_ " His tone was dark and dangerously menacing; the acid-laden words falling from his tightly pursed lips as he hissed through firmly clenched teeth, " _You will do as…_ "

"NO!" Parean shouted in frustration, her patience at its end. "I will not blindly _do as I am commanded_!" she raged, finishing his words. "You will not silence me just because you do not wish to hear what I am saying!" Her eyes were alight with indignation, "You _will_ hear me! Going to Orzammar may be the 'practical' course, but this is not right!"

Loghain was momentarily dumbstruck by her outburst. His tall form straightened, "We cannot shirk our duty simply because it may interfere with our personal desires."

"To The Void with duty!" Parean retorted, infuriated with his annoying penchant for self-sacrifice in the name of duty. She stared at him scornfully, "And practicality be hanged!" Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she held out her hands to him, her voice pleading with him to see reason, "You know this is wrong. Being practical is not always the proper choice."

"In a time of war, it is the only choice," Loghain stated simply, all traces of malice gone from his tone.

Parean sighed heavily, reluctantly accepting the idea that he would not be deterred, "Very well. There are 'practical' reasons to go to Denerim. You are still the leader of the king's army. Should we not determine their status since the attack? Surely, if the attack was as massive as we are lead to believe, a large portion of the soldiers were killed."

Loghain shook his head solemnly, "Of that I have no doubt but Cauthrien will know what is to be done. She is more than capable of handling the situation."

Parean knew the level of respect and regard Loghain held for his second, making her reply all the more difficult to utter, "Ser Cauthrien is an excellent soldier," she began hesitantly, "she would gladly give her life to protect the king and queen." Parean did not wish to add to his burden, but there was little choice, "If Anora is truly dead, is it not possible that Cauthrien was slain as well? Who will re-group and lead the army in her stead?"

Loghain stood silent for a moment, lost in thought, before answering, "There is a chain of command in that event."

"Anyone you trust as much as Cauthrien?" she prodded gently.

"No," Loghain admitted, a hint of resignation in his voice.

"Then you will be needed to organize the re-building of the army and appoint someone to replace Cauthrien, if necessary." Parean looked at Loghain matter-of-factly, "As to the treaties, since the Brecilian Forest is near Denerim, we can seek out the elves and confirm their aid with The Blight."

_'She is right,'_ he begrudgingly admitted to himself. _'I must determine the state of the army and take the appropriate measures to prepare them against another attack.'_ His decision made, Loghain began to issue his orders, "We shall journey to Denerim…"

"What about Arl Eamon and Redcliffe?" Alistair asserted in frustration, abruptly interrupting Loghain.

Loghain's features remained cold and neutral as he brushed off Alistair's comment, "Parean and I will go to Denerim to find out how the army fairs and affirm the elven treaty." He glared at Alistair, a faint trace of amusement flashing in his eyes, "You shall take Morrigan and travel to Redcliffe. Assess the situation and provide any aid that you can."

Alistair felt his stomach twisting into knots. Not the usual pleasant churning of his innards that he experienced when he was near Parean, but a violent wrenching that made his blood burn. After witnessing the scene at the inn, he loathed the idea of Loghain being alone with her for weeks at a time. "Parean should accompany me. The Arl may require an expert healer."

"I'm sure the Circle has dispatched healers to Redcliffe, Alistair," Parean assured him. "Morrigan is more than capable of assisting them."

"The same can be said for Denerim," Alistair snapped crossly. "Besides, she is an apostate. In Loghain's company, she would be better protected from the templars guarding those mages."

Loghain's frustration with the boy had reached its peak, "You have your orders, Alistair, and I expect you to carry them out," he stated flatly, leveling Alistair with a piercing stare. "You will take the marsh witch to Redcliffe."

Morrigan could remain silent no longer, "Have I no say in this?"

"Apparently about as much say as I have," Alistair grumbled; his deep blue eyes were dark and sullen. With an exaggerated statue, he barked coldly, "As you say, Warden Commander."


	19. Let Your Heart Be Your Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Camping for the night on their way to Denerim, Loghain and Parean have an "interesting" conversation and some unexpected guests..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _With this chapter, I think I can safely say that Loghain and Parean have taken over the writing of my story...I do believe they are getting somewhat impatient waiting for their relationship to begin...lol...while the overall events were things that I had planned, they greatly expanded them well beyond what I originally wanted to write (especially their alone time)..._

**Chapter 19 – Let Your Heart Be Your Guide**

Loghain was surprised at how anxious he felt as they made their way down the North Road toward Denerim. They had lost at least an hour's time, between the argument in front of the inn, waiting for their horses to be readied and obtaining and dividing their provisions. He wanted to race to Denerim, riding at full gallop to shorten their travel time, but he did not wish to risk injuring Parean again. Red snorted and chomped against his bit in frustration as Loghain expertly kept him at pace with Parean's smaller horse, a 12-hand 7-year old roan-colored mare named Chance.

As the light of the day began the wane, they traveled down the dusty road in an awkward silence. Parean turned in her saddle to see the Tower falling into the distance behind them. Her thoughts drifted effortlessly to Muirne's words that had been persistently flowing through her mind,

_'If you truly love him, then why are you pulling away…What I don't understand is why you choose to waste this opportunity…take hold of it…'_

_'Tell him how you feel…'_

True to the promise she made to Muirne, she had listened to her heart and seized upon the chance to show her feelings. Her mind replayed that moment in the inn as she shyly looked toward Loghain. He was sitting stiffly in his saddle, his eyes staring blankly forward, lost in his own thoughts. His only movements came when he corrected Red's speed to keep himself at her side. _'He is right here next to me, so close I can touch him with only a slight reach, and yet, he seems so far away.'_ She looked down at her hands, _'He was holding my hand as if it were a lifeline.'_ Slowly, she pressed her fingers against her cheek, _'He stroked my cheeks so tenderly.'_ Her heart began to race at the memory of his touch.

_'He was not in his right mind,'_ her mind spoke reprovingly.

An unnerving thought struck her, _'Was I wrong? Did I take advantage of his momentary vulnerability?'_ The very idea of it sickened her.

_'He needed support and comfort and you were there for him. You let him know that you care and he responded to it,'_ her heart reassured gently.

_'Yes, and what did it gain you?'_ her mind retorted. _'You have been traveling alone together for some time now and you've barely spoken.'_

Parean was jolted from her reverie when she felt her horse suddenly stop and something grip her arm, briskly shaking it. Her head quickly turned and she found herself face to face with Loghain.

"Parean," he uttered softly, "is something amiss?"

She stared longingly into his icy blue eyes, _'Oh my love, how easy it would be for me to lose myself in your gaze,'_ she thought wistfully as her heart began to pound. As she gazed into his eyes, her blood felt like fire as it raced through her veins, scorching every inch of her body. The skin where his gauntleted hand touched her prickled with gooseflesh, every nerve springing to life. Tiny shocks of electricity shot down her arm as her breath caught in her throat and her body trembled involuntarily.

Surprised by her reaction, he quickly released her arm, "Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you. I sought only to get your attention when you did not respond to my comment."

"It's alright," she shook her head slightly and smiled warmly at him. "I was just…remembering something Muirne said to me."

A sarcastic grin lit his features, "Yes, well, that would explain the dour expression you held. Speaking with her at length can turn even the most cheerful person morose."

She snickered, giving him a wry smile, "If that were the case, then your short conversation with her must have left your wanting to hang yourself."

"More like an overwhelming urge to throw myself at the Archdemon unarmed," he chuckled loudly.

She could not hold back a knowing laugh, "You seemed to have the same effect on her. She did suggest that I leave you to the Archdemon," her eyes danced with amusement at the memory. _'Though for a very different reason,'_ she mused inwardly.

He cocked a questioning brow, "Really? Why is that?"

She shrugged, feigning ignorance, "Who knows? Maybe she didn't appreciate your putting a sword to Cullen's throat," she mockingly chided. "Remember, I did warn you that Muirne can be…intense…at times." Shaking her head slightly, she chuckled, "That's why Eira teases her so much. She has tasked herself with getting Muirne to lighten her demeanor."

"I wish her good luck with that endeavor," he scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "though I fear she will be sorely disappointed."

"More than likely," she sighed. "That aside, what was it that you wanted to tell me?"

"It's getting late and we should make camp for the evening," he said, gesturing toward a small clearing a short distance from the road.

"Make camp? Um…yes…I…I s-suppose we sh-should…m-make camp…since it's…g-getting late…and all…" she agreed nervously; her irritating tendency to stutter making a grand reappearance. 

Loghain's expression, at first confused, melted into a roguish grin, "You're stuttering again," he teased playfully. "It's been some time since you've lost the capacity to speak clearly," his tone was warm and his eyes held a glint of humor. "Something on your mind?"

_'Yes, but nothing that I would dare give voice to.'_ Her cheeks flushed a bright red and she could only manage a slight smile, "N-no…I am…j-just feeling a bit…ch-chilled…by…by the evening air…" came her awkward reply.

Nodding his head in acknowledgment, he reached around and untied his blanket from behind his saddle. Placing it around her shoulders, he gently lifted her hair from under the blanket, setting it to rest on top, "Here, this should keep you warm until I can get a fire started." His fingers lightly grazed her neck, sending a visible chill down her spine. "Come. We should prepare the camp before we lose the light."

Parean pulled his blanket tight around her. It was thick with his scent and she smiled, breathing in deeply. She cursed herself for feeling awkward, _'Why am I so nervous? It's not as though we haven't camped together before.'_ She watched as Loghain dismounted, leading Red toward the clearing. Quickly sliding out of her own saddle, she took a few long breaths in an effort to calm her wildly jittering nerves. _'Because this is the first time we've been in camp…alone…'_

As they approached the clearing, it was apparent that other travelers had previously sought shelter there as well. A small log lay in front of an established fire pit and the supports for a makeshift spit where already firmly in place. Markings where tents once stood were plainly visible as well as an improvised stabling area for horses. Loghain surveyed the area with a satisfied nod, "How convenient. This will certainly make my job much easier," he muttered as Parean came to halt beside him.

With her nerves still on edge, she resisted the urge to tease him and simply nodded her agreement.

He looked at her curiously, "What? No snappy sarcastic quip about it being a good thing since I'm such an old man?"

_'He knows me so well,'_ she mused to herself. "Well, the thought did cross my mind but how amusing would it have been had I said it while stuttering?" she giggled nervously; surprised that she was able to keep her voice steady.

"I find your stuttering most amusing," he teased, grinning at her playfully. Parean looked away quickly, attempting to hide her blush. He chuckled quietly as he took her horse's reins and lead Chance and Red to the makeshift stable.

After securing the horses for the evening, they set about building their camp. She gathered the supplies they would need to prepare their evening meal while Loghain unpacked their tents. Parean was thankful that they had traded her large, four-person tent for a more reasonable one-person version. She watched as he quickly set up her tent then turned to begin work on his own. Diligently keeping Loghain's blanket tightly wrapped around her, she busied herself with setting up the cooking equipment and fetching their bedrolls, trying in vain to distract her thoughts from the fact that he had placed his tent next to hers. 

A shuffling sound drew her attention and she turned to see Loghain, his back to her, tossing his remaining rerebrace through the open flap of his tent. It landed with a loud **_'clank'_** where his other rerebrace, vambraces and gauntlets were laying. His long fingers deftly worked to loosen the straps on his cuirass and soon it too joined the pile of discarded armor. She stared in awe as he leisurely stretched his arms and back. _'How does he move so effortlessly, with such grace and agility, while bearing the weight of all that armor?'_ she wondered mindlessly. With the bulk of his armor gone, he made short work of removing his cuisses, greaves and sabatons. Parean flushed, her gaze transfixed on him, standing there in only his mail hauberk and chausses. 

_'You're leering at him as though you were a lecher,'_ her mind scolded. Finding herself unable to avert her eyes, she ignored her mind's rebuke and continued to watch him in silence.

Loghain was keenly aware of Parean's gaze as he finished removing his armor. A nervous energy churned in the pit of his stomach. _'It has been many years since I have undressed in front of a woman,'_ he quietly reflected.

_'She is just a soldier, nothing more,'_ his mind scoffed. _'There have been countless females in your armies and at no time have you ever given your state of undress a second thought. This is no different.'_

He shook his head defiantly, _'She is so much more than just a soldier. The difference is that I care for her.'_ At that moment, all he wanted was to feel her skin pressed against his; to savor the taste of her, giving himself to her body and soul. With a heavy sigh he banished the thought and focused instead on easing the soreness of his stiffening muscles. His body was weary from the day's events and he was feeling every bit of his 54 years. Gingerly, he stretched his aching muscles, each movement punctuated with a soft groan. _'I am far too old to be commanding the king's army but how could I refuse Anora's request?'_ His heart clenched as an image of Anora's broken and bloodied body flashed in his mind. " _Anora…_ " he breathed mournfully, enveloped in an overwhelming sadness. 

_'…a father can grieve for his child…and those who care for him mourn with him.'_

Parean's voice drifted through his mind; her softly spoken words, once again, comforting him. His heart raced at the memory of their, all too brief, moment of intimacy at the inn. The words _'those who care for him...'_ echoed through his mind once more. _'The way she stroked my hand…her reaction to my touch…the tender look in her eyes...her nervous stuttering…is it possible that she truly cares for me?'_ He dared to allow himself a fleeting glimmer of hope, _'What would have become of it had Alistair not interrupted us?'_ The familiar wrenching of his gut returned at the thought of Alistair. It was obvious from the expression on his face at the inn that the boy harbored feelings for Parean. The twisting sensation in his stomach turned violent as he thought of the growing closeness between the two. His hope began to fade and his heart sank, _'Of course she would behave as she did upon hearing of Anora's fate. She is, by nature, a tenderhearted and caring young woman.'_ A disheartened sigh escaped his lips, _'Perhaps I should have sent Parean to Redcliffe with Alistair. They are well suited for each other.'_

_'Enough of these foolish imaginings, Loghain, there is still work to be done,'_ he told himself briskly. He removed his mail hauberk and slipped into his tent to retrieve his tunic and breeches. When he re-emerged a few moments later he found a fire already bustling in the fire pit. Looking curiously at Parean, he grinned slightly and shook his head as he walked over to join her. She was sitting on the log next to the fire pit, completely wrapped up in his blanket, head and all.

"Thank you for starting the fire." He saw her jump at the sound of his voice then turn toward him, though her face was still covered by the blanket.

"You're w-welcome," she replied quickly; her voice sounding muffled through the blanket. "I-I wanted to b-be of so-some use and…well…sometimes it's…h-handy to have a fire ma-mage around." She gave a heavy sigh, the movement of the blanket telling him that she was shaking her head, "Just as I thought…not as humorous when you stutter."

He chuckled softly, "By the way, might I ask what you're doing?" his curiosity begging to be sated.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you hiding in there?" he teased, tugging gently on the blanket.

"N-no…not hiding…" she laughed timidly. "I thought to give you some privacy…w-while you ch-changed. I would have gone into my tent but since your tent is n-next to mine…I didn't want to a-appear…" her voice trailed off briefly. "I-I didn't think it safe for me to wander into the woods so this," she gestured awkwardly at the blanket, "this was all I could think to do. Oh, sweet Andraste, now I'm stuttering and babbling," her shoulders slumped dejectedly.

"Well, it's safe to come out now." He watched as she slowly parted the blanket and peeked out tentatively before pulling it away from her head. "I appreciate your intention but it is unnecessary. As I mentioned before, privacy is a luxury for a soldier." He cocked his head and raised a questioning eyebrow, "Surely you're accustomed to a lack of privacy, given that mages are afforded none in the Tower?"

"Yes, unfortunately I am well acquainted with it. It was one of the many things I despised about our treatment." She fixed him with an earnest look, "That's why I value it so highly. Some things…some actions…should remain private unless the person wishes to share them with someone else. It should be their choice, not one made by others."

He bowed graciously to her, "It was a generous thought, none the less, and I thank you for it." Her shocked expression and the slight flush that rose on her cheeks caused him to smile inwardly.

Though she still clutched his blanket close around her, it seemed to him that she was beginning to relax. He knew she had returned to normal when a mischievous grin crossed her face. Reaching behind her, she picked up his bow and quiver thrusting it forcefully toward him and stated mockingly, "Feed me!"

"As you command, my lady," he laughed with a slight, sweeping bow. Strapping the quiver to his back, he turned to set off on his hunt.

"Loghain?"

Hearing her softly whisper his name stopped him in an instant. Turning back to face her, he murmured quietly, "Yes?"

She looked at him sheepishly, her expression one of childlike innocence, "Would you mind if I came with you?"

"Are you certain?" came his shocked reply.

"I promise I won't be a bother. I could light your way or, perhaps, I could flush out some prey." The anxiousness in her voice was palpable. "Please, I do not wish to be left alone." Her hands pulled on his blanket, hugging it tightly around her.

He would have preferred to hunt on his own but, after seeing the fear in her eyes, he relented, "If you wish, but you must be silent. No talking unless absolutely necessary and even then in hushed tones."

Instantly her expression brightened, "I promise!" her words bursting out loudly. At his exasperated groan, she clasped a hand over her mouth, "Sorry," she mumbled through her fingers. Springing up from her seat, she hurried to his side.

"You'll have to leave the blanket. It may snag on the foliage and scare away our prey." He noticed her hands tighten under the blanket.

"Of course, as you say." Reluctantly, she removed his blanket, carefully folding it as she walked back toward the fire pit. After setting it down on the log, she turned to him, "Ready when you are."

Loghain was amazed that their hunt went so well. Normally, hunting with someone else only meant that it would take him longer to catch his prey due to his companion's inability to move silently and his resulting frustration with them. Parean proved to be a very capable hunter. Using her healer's ability to 'see' into bodies, she was able to quickly locate potential prey. He silently instructed her on what to do to flush a large boar from the bushes using only hand gestures which she understood with ease. Once he had downed the boar, her fire magic made tracking the body a simple task and provided enough light for him to carve the beast where it lay.

They ate their evening meal together in a relaxed silence, neither one feeling a pressing need for idle conversation. Afterward, they warmed themselves by the fire, content with enjoying the solace and solitude of their own thoughts. Loghain glanced over at Parean sitting next to him, his blanket draped around her as she stared blankly into the gradually ebbing flames. Slowly, he stood from his seat and stoked the fire back to life before heading toward his tent. Parean watched him disappear into his tent then re-appear a moment later carrying a bottle in his hand as he returned to his place on the log.

"I was wondering when you were going to bring out your alcohol," she snickered quietly.

Loghain looked genuinely shocked, "You make it sound as though I live in a bottle."

A sardonic smile touched her lips, "No, I wouldn't say you live in a bottle," she stared at him skeptically, "but in a drinking contest, you'd give even the stoutest of dwarves a run for his sovereigns." Her smile broadened at his mocking sneer as he raised the bottle and drew a long pull. "What is it this time? Dwarven Ale? Sun Blonde Vint? Perhaps a vintage wine from the cellars in Gwaren?"

"What makes you think that I had a wine cellar in Gwaren?" he asked, wiping his lips after taking another drink.

She shrugged, "I just assumed that all nobles had wine cellars in their manors."

"Celia did not approve of having spirits in her home." He turned to stare into the fire, "She watched her father drink himself into a slow death and she wanted no part in someone else doing the same." The edge of his mouth rose in a slight, crooked smile, "And, after the 'incident' in Denerim with Cailan and Anora, she insisted that I remove the wine cellar."

"Incident?" she asked hesitantly. Given the circumstances, she did not want to upset him with a discussion of Anora.

"During one of our visits to Denerim, she and Cailan fought an army of ogres in the wine cellar at the Palace. At least, that was their explanation for all the broken bottles." Resting his arms on his legs, he leaned forward to stare more intently at the fire, "Celia was not amused and upon our return to Gwaren, she 'insisted', well…ordered to be entirely accurate, that our wine cellar be converted."

"Converted into what? Did she believe they were drinking the wine?" 

He took another swallow from his bottle, "A playroom, so they could fight their ogres without causing any major damage. It was never really clear to me if she felt alcohol was involved but she was not one to take chances. Maric would often allow Cailan a cup of wine on special occasions and she worried that Cailan would encourage Anora to indulge as well." Looking down at the bottle in his hand, he grunted softly, "Humph…as though Cailan could convince Anora to do anything she was not of a mind to do."

Parean smiled warmly as she imagined a young Anora with pigtails and skinned knees chasing after a young and completely enamored Cailan. "It sounds like the two of them were holy terrors."

Loghain leaned back, turning to face her, "Yes, but it's the peculiar joy of parents to be terrorized by their children." His eyes were soft and she saw in them the same look of pride he held when he and Anora were re-united in Redcliffe. Her heart clenched when she noticed the tinge of sadness in his gaze.

Determined to ease the crushing ache in his heart and stop the horrifyingly vivid and graphic visions of Anora's body cascading through his mind, he drank several swallows of the amber liquid. Having consumed over half the contents, he welcomed the alcohol-induced haze beginning to cloud his mind and the numbing sensation flowing through his body.

They sat in silence for several moments when Loghain, the effects of the brew thickening his words, suddenly blurted, "Golden…Scythe."

"What?" Parean responded in confusion.

He gestured toward the bottle, "That's…what I'm drinking…Golden Scythe. A battlefield spirit…used…by soldiers who wish to…get drunk quickly."

Parean smiled sympathetically, laying a gentle hand on his arm, "It would appear that you've succeeded in your task so perhaps you should stop now."

He looked at her through slightly bleary eyes, chuckling loudly, "And waste…the rest of the…bottle? Nonsense." His seemingly jovial mood abruptly changed as his leveled her with a menacing scowl, "You…sound just…like…Celia."

Ignoring his remark, she motioned at the bottle, "In that case, will you at least share it with me?"

"Of course, my lady…how…ungentlemanly of me…please forgive my…manners," he grinned as he handed the bottle to her.

Parean took a small sip and immediately spat it out, her mouth in searing pain. "Maker's Breath! What in Andraste's name is this made of? Liquid fire?" She stuck out her tongue and began panting heavily in a vain attempt to cool it while Loghain's uproarious laughter filled the air.

"You…could…say…that…" Between the alcohol and his laughter, he was barely able stammer out the words. Taking a moment to regain some control he quipped, "Come now, you're a…fire mage…you should be…able to handle it…" He snickered loudly, wiping the tears from his eyes.

She glared at him in indignation but soon found herself caught up in his infectious laughter. "I do look rather ridiculous, don't I?" Her lips curved into her awkward smile.

His laughter finally subsiding, he smiled affectionately at her, "I think you look…beautiful…especially when you smile in that way."

Parean's heart leaped into her throat; her body frozen. _'Did he just say what I think he said or am I imagining it?'_ Trying desperately to remain calm, she nervously teased, "You have your ale spectacles on I see." 

Loghain stood slowly and moved to stand in front of her. Reaching down, he took her hands gently in his and pulled her to her feet. His heart began to race as he gazed into her beautiful clear blue eyes. _'Beloved, there are so many things I wish to tell you.'_

_'What are you doing? Have you lost all sense of reality? Stop now before you do something you'll regret later!'_ his mind screamed, breaking through the haze of alcohol that was slowly beginning to recede.

Lost in the moment and his judgment still impaired, he cast caution to the wind. His voice was deep and husky as he softly breathed, "Parean, you are beautiful. Is that so wrong of me to say?"

Parean swallowed hard against the growing lump in her throat; her heart pounding furiously in her chest. She stared up at him in disbelief. Unable to gauge his reaction, she spoke to him in what she hoped was a comforting tone, "I'm going to attribute this to an alcohol-induced stupor. Perhaps you should get some rest."

Sliding his arm around her waist, he softly stroked his hand down her cheek and entwined his fingers into her hair. "I've no need of alcohol to tell you how I feel." He sighed heavily against his words, "or perhaps I do, considering my tendency to be a stubborn arse."

Her mind was reeling as her body threatened to swoon. His icy blue eyes held such tenderness, such sincerity that she was overcome by her own emotions. Caught up in the moment, her body melded against him. His breath caught in his throat as she gently ran her fingers through his hair; his body shivering at her touch. "Loghain," she whispered in a low dulcet tone, her eyes holding his gaze, "you are not an arse. I see who you truly are, a kind-hearted, warm, compassionate and giving man willing to do anything for those he cares about. A man who has suffered more heartache and loss than anyone should have to endure. So much so that you shield yourself behind a taciturn scowl, keeping others at bay for fear of being hurt." Laying her head on his chest, she listened to the rhythm of his rapidly beating heart; her breath on his exposed skin giving rise to gooseflesh. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. "It breaks my heart when I think of all the sacrifices you have made for others. I only wish that I had the power to heal your pain." He enveloped her in a firm embrace and she felt safe, protected…loved.

Loghain's heart swelled, _'She does care for me. She is here, in my arms, speaking words of affection.'_ For the first time in many years, he felt genuinely happy and contented. He rested his head on hers and rocked her slowly, "Thank you," he murmured. They held each other for a long moment before he drew back slightly to tenderly cup her chin, raising her gaze to meet his, "Having you by my side is all the remedy I require." She stared up at him, her eyes soft and filling with tears, that endearing awkward smile lighting up her countenance like a beacon. 

No longer able to control himself, Loghain lowered his lips to hers, hesitating a hairsbreadth from her mouth, waiting for her to indicate if she was willing. She quickly closed the gap between them and he smiled against her lips. Emboldened by her response, he placed a hand behind her head. His fingers weaved themselves through her hair as his tongue gingerly traced the curve of her lips. Bolts of electricity coursed through his body as Parean's hands slid up his back, her nails digging into his shoulders through the thin fabric of his tunic. She parted her lips and their tongues began a slow, sensual dance. Their bodies trembled in unison, the passion between them building at a feverish rate.

_'And to think, only a few hours ago you were sickened by the thought of taking advantage of his emotional vulnerability. Apparently, taking advantage of an intoxicated man is perfectly acceptable,'_ her mind taunted sarcastically.

_'Parean, think about what you're doing. Inebriation can reveal truths that would otherwise go unspoken, but oft times it leads a person to act on impulse, saying things that they don't mean. You must be certain of his feelings before you proceed any further,'_ her heart cautiously pleaded.

Parean's body stiffened as the crushing blow of reality came crashing down upon her. _'No…I can't do this! I won't take advantage of him this way!'_

Feeling her body suddenly tense, Loghain drew back and looked at her curiously. He quickly released her when she began to struggle against him, his expression changing to utter confusion. "Parean, is something wrong?"

"I…I can't do this, Loghain," she stammered weakly, "This isn't right…not now…not like this…" The pain in her voice was evident as tears began spilling down her cheeks. "Loghain, you are not in your right mind. You're exhausted, distraught with grief for Anora, coupled with the effects of the Golden Scythe…you're not thinking clearly; neither one of us are."

Loghain's chest tightened excruciatingly, as though Parean had thrust in her hand and ripped out his heart. He stared at her in shocked disbelief, "I am well aware of what I'm doing," his tone sounded harsh as he struggled to make sense of her words.

"Are you?" she countered, her voice trembling. "Can you be certain that the emotional strain and alcohol are not effecting your judgment?"

"So you're saying that this is not what you want?" His eyes were hard and shrouded as he glared at her intensely. His expression had returned to its normal, taciturn scowl.

Parean felt as though her heart had ceased to beat, _'Oh, sweet Andraste, I never meant to hurt him.'_ She wanted to rush back into his arms, begging him to forgive her for being a fool and ease his pain. Taking a slow, deep breath, she whispered, "What I'm saying is that we should talk about this later, when we are both thinking more clearly." She silently hoped that her words were encouraging enough to show him that she did want this but at a more appropriate time. Her heart sank when he abruptly assumed his "General's Persona". 

"There is no need of further discussion. I apologize for my entirely inappropriate behavior. I assure you, it will not happen again," his tone the essence of neutrality.

"Loghain, please don't…" she pleaded, only to be interrupted by a wave of his hand.

"If you'll excuse me, I must change back into my armor before I take the watch for the evening."

"Wait, before you go…" Parean said quickly, stopping him where he stood, "I should return this to you." She turned to retrieve his blanket from the ground. 

Loghain's reply died on his lips when he was struck out of nowhere by the frigid blast of an ice spell. 

Parean, unaware of what had happened, turned back to face him and saw his frozen form standing before her. "Loghain! Wha..." her words cut short by the searing pain of the arrow that pierced her back. Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she quickly raised a shield around them both, the arrow in her back sending waves of pain through her body. Before the shield had fully formed, a second arrow struck her right arm. Ignoring her pain, her hands began to glow with a brilliant red aura as she quickly melted the ice that encapsulated Loghain. Once freed, he collapsed to the ground and his body shivered uncontrollably as it struggled to warm him.

A volley of arrows continued to bounce harmlessly off her shield as she saw the approach of several Crow assassins running toward them, daggers at the ready. Smoke billowed her hands as she cast her fire spells at the attackers. The air became thick with the stench of burning flesh and a cloud of smoke filled the area, making it difficult for her to see. Using the smoke for cover, the Crows crept in closer, shouting taunts that echoed through the trees and concealed the sound of their approaching footsteps. 

Parean was beginning to weaken. The blood loss and exertion were effecting her concentration and her mana was depleted to the point that her 'healer vision' was of no use. She glanced down at Loghain, still laying on the ground, shaking violently and unable to move.

"P-P-Par-ea-n," he stuttered through his rapidly chattering teeth, "C-c-con-c-en-tra-te y-y-you-r a-t-tta-ck-s on wh-whe-re th-the a-ar-row-s are c-c-com-ing fr-fr-from."

Following Loghain's guidance, she was able to determine a general location of the Crow archers each time an arrow struck her shield. Several archers were struck directly while others were burned alive when her fire blast hit the trees in which they were perched. 

As she continued to target the individual archers, she felt a blast of magical energy hit the shield behind her. Lightning streaked around the shield and she turned to see the Crow mage preparing for another attack. She raised her glowing red hand toward him, ready to launch her counterattack when he unexpectedly dropped his hands and stared at her.

"Parean?" the Crow mage called out in confusion.

Surprised at hearing her name, she peered into the darkness, straining to see him more clearly. As he moved closer, the light from the fires illuminated his features. He was a young elf with midnight black hair and dark brown eyes. She recognized him almost immediately.

"Thadan? Is that you?" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"Parean, why are you…" his question ceased when he was frozen solid by Parean's ice spell. 

Distracted by dealing with Thadan, Parean did not notice the Crow leader's approach. He used the opportunity to quietly sneak in closer to them. As she turned around, she saw him standing just outside of her shield. She was panting heavily now, her injuries as well as the concentration necessary to maintain her shield and attacks were causing her to feel faint. It would not be much longer before her shield would weaken then fail completely, leaving them at the mercy of the assassins.

"Awww…is the poor little robe getting tired?" he taunted with a malevolent sneer. Circling around, he knelt down next to Loghain, "Too bad your lover is useless." Turning his attention to Loghain, he snickered, "Do you always let your woman fight your battles?"

With his shaking starting to ease, Loghain struggled to his knees, leaving him panting from the effort. "S-sod o-ff!" he growled menacingly.

The Crow leader laughed at Loghain's curse, "Tsk, tsk…is that any way to talk in front of your woman?" He leaned in toward Loghain, as if to whisper a secret, "Once this shield is gone, I was going to kill you before we had our fun with her." He feigned a hurt expression, "But you've hurt my feelings, so now I think I'll make you watch." He stared at Loghain with a look of pure depravity, "We're going to pass her around until we've had our fill and then…we're going to gut her." His look turned to mock sympathy, "But don't fret, you will follow her shortly after."

Loghain leveled the assassin with a glare of unbridled murderous rage, "D-don't y-y-you da-dare t-touch her or I w-will r-r-rip your th-throat-s out with my b-bare hands!" Willing his body to move, he reached out to grab the vile man's throat.

Parean quickly pulled his arm back, "No Loghain! If you reach outside the shield he can pull your through!" Suddenly overcome with dizziness and pain, she dropped to her knees beside him, her vision starting to blur as the forest spun around her.

Loghain grabbed her arms as she began to sway slightly, "P-Parean!"

The Crow leader's amused laughter floated through the air, "You know, my lovely, we've been watching the two of you for several hours. Too bad you changed your mind with your lover here." He stared lustfully at Parean as she fought to focus her eyes, "Thought we were going to get some entertainment before we killed you both." He stood up slowly, leisurely brushing the dust from his knees, "Ah well, guess you'll just have to be satisfied with us." He motioned toward the trees and the remaining Crows stepped out of the darkness to surround them. "Don't worry, my pretty little robe, we'll take good care of you."

Loghain felt Parean's body tense, "I w-will die be-before I l-let them h-harm you." Slowly, she raised her head and, expecting to see fear in her eyes, he saw instead an intense rage unlike he had ever since in her before. A radiant light drew his attention and he caught a glimpse of her amulet glowing a brilliant white just before she grasped it with her hand.

Parean's tone was brimming with hate, "I'll be damned to The Void if these sodding bastards will escape!" she quietly growled through her tightly clenched teeth. Her grip tightened on the amulet as she prepared to rip it from her neck.

Loghain placed his hand on hers, "Parean, d-don't do i-it," his whispered softly, the chattering of his teeth all but gone. "You must re-remain in c-control." With a slight nod, she relaxed her hand and let it fall heavily into her lap.

The depth of anger she was experiencing startled her. Most surprising to her was that she welcomed it. She reveled at the thought of searing the flesh from their bones, hearing their ear-piercing screams as they writhed in agonizing pain at her feet. She wanted to torture and crush them until they were reduced to blood stains in the dirt. A faint voice in her mind called out for blood and only their excruciating deaths would sate her.

Parean rose to her feet and glared sadistically at the Crow leader. The triumphant gleam in his eyes turned to stark terror at the sound of her maniacal cackle. "What will satisfy me is your horrified expression as you suffer a gruesome death. I will delight in taking vengeance for Anora, for Loghain, and for all those you worthless murdering bastards have harmed for the want of a few sovereigns." She swirled her hands in the air as the Crow leader slowly backed away. Letting out a guttural scream, flames erupted from her hands as she thrust them over her head. Large fireballs rained from the sky; the assassins scattering in all directions in a futile attempt to save themselves. In a matter of moments, the Crows were decimated with only the Crow leader remaining. He lay on the ground several feet away, stunned by the shockwave of a fireball striking the ground near him.

"Parean!" Loghain called out over the deafening noise of the firestorm, "You can cease your attack…they are all dead!"

Her arms fell limply to her sides, stopping the hail of fireballs instantly. A blanket of smoke covered the clearing as several of the nearby trees burned furiously. Summoning what little strength she had remaining, Parean used her ice magic to frost the trees and extinguish the fire. With the last of her strength and mana gone, the protective shield surrounding them dissipated.

In her fragile state, she barely noticed when Loghain bolted for his bow and quiver. The Crow leader had recovered his senses and was charging toward them with daggers drawn. She could vaguely make out the look of sheer horror on the Crow leader's face as Loghain's arrow pierced his throat. Bright red blood spewed from his mouth as he fell to the ground; his last breaths nothing more than a few loud gurgling sounds. Parean's face was ashen and her body began to sway wildly as she tried to focus her eyes on Loghain.

Smiling weakly at him, she heard Loghain shout her name as she collapsed to the ground.


	20. Dangerous Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Loghain struggles with what to do about Parean's new ability and Parean worries that she may be losing herself..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Real life finally calmed down enough for me to finish this chapter...Thanks to everyone who continues to follow my story even with my erratic posting...I appreciate it more than you know!_  
> 
> _Thanks go out to my niece for giving me the challenge of trying to logically work in her character's (Eira) elven assassin boyfriend (Thadan)...I especially want to thank my son for helping me with the fight scene and being willing to sword fight with me to work out the strikes..._  
> 
> _I hope you enjoy the chapter and, as always, comments are always welcome!_

**_Chapter 20 – Dangerous Discoveries_ **

“…mmmph…”

The warmth of the fire crackled next to her as Parean slowly became aware of her surroundings. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of charred flesh assaulted her senses; a grim reminder of the Crows failed assassination attempt. Her limbs felt leaden as she stirred slightly, the injuries to her arm and back causing waves of pain to course through her body.

“Parean! You’re finally awake! Thank The Maker!” a vaguely familiar voice called out in the distance.

“Loghain?” she responded weakly, her voice straining from the effort.

“He has gone into the woods. Probably to scout for stragglers,” the voice replied, “He won’t find any. You took care of them all quite sufficiently.” An amused chuckle drifted through the air, “I wouldn’t have expected any less from you.”

Her eyelids fluttered open and she tentatively turned her head in the direction of the voice. A short distance away, she saw Thadan sitting on the ground, securely bound to a tree. “Thadan…are you alright? My ice spell didn’t harm you, did it?”

Thadan smiled reassuringly at her, “I’m fine. It wasn’t pleasant by any means, but preferable to the alternative.” Cocking his head, he gave her a questioning look, “If I remember correctly, you are a fire mage. How is it that you can cast ice?”

Unsure of what his reaction to the truth would be, Parean was hesitant to answer. “It’s a long story,” she said warily, “Suffice it to say that I acquired the ability recently. I’m not very practiced at using it and I worried about what might happen but I saw no other way to protect you.”

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, he bowed his head slightly, “Thank you for that.”

Taking a deep breath, Parean grunted loudly as she forced herself to sit up. Dizziness overwhelmed her and she carefully rested her head on the log until her reeling senses calmed. She stretched her tender, weary muscles, still weak from exertion. Her fingers glided lightly over her tunic, tracing the lines of the bandages that lay underneath. “Did Loghain dress my wounds?”

“Yes,” Thadan stated simply. “After you collapsed, he rushed to your side. When he determined that you were still alive, he bound me to this tree and began tending to your injuries. I would have gladly aided him, but as you can see,” he gestured to his restraints, “I am quite incapacitated.” He looked at her with a confused expression, “He seemed somewhat…conflicted…as he was bandaging your wounds.”

_‘Conflicted is probably the least of what he is feeling at present,’_ she mused as images of their kiss flooded her mind. She felt a flush of excitement at the thought of Loghain removing her tunic and his strong hands touching her exposed flesh.

“…out for you.”

Lost in her thoughts, she stared at Thadan dreamily, “Hmmm?”

Thadan chuckled under his breath, “I said that before he left, he set your staff and herb pouch out for you.”

Parean looked down to find her staff and pouch lying next to her. With great effort, she opened the pouch and retrieved a few sprigs of elfroot. Her face crinkled in revulsion, “Ugh…I really should distill these into a potion. They taste horrible!” She glared at Thadan’s sudden outburst of laughter. Searching through her pouch, she found only one small vial of lyrium. Staring down at the vial of bright blue liquid, she sighed, “This is not nearly enough to restore my mana, but it will have to do for now.” After drinking the potion down, she picked up her staff and slowly rose to her feet. Leaning heavily on the staff for support, she made her way over to Thadan. Standing before him, she stared at him curiously, “Please don’t be offended by this question, but, why aren’t you dead? How is it that Loghain didn’t kill you?”

He looked up at her blankly and shrugged, “I don’t know. I imagine it is because of you.”

“Because of me?” she stammered incredulously, “What do you mean?”

“I was lying on the ground, still recovering from being frozen, as he approached me with his sword drawn. I was certain that he was going to slay me. He just stared at me and simply said, ‘Why did she spare you?’ I told him that we knew each other from the Circle. He hesitated for a moment, then hoisted me over his shoulder and bound me to this tree.”

She smiled smugly at him, “Well, I guess there are some benefits to knowing the right people.”

He returned her smile, “So it would seem.”

“That explains why Loghain did not kill you but not how you came to be here.” Shifting uncomfortably on her feet, she looked at him in utter confusion, “What happened to you Thadan? It was 10 years ago when you left the Circle with your mentor. We were told that your party had been killed.”

Sadness shrouded his eyes at the memory, “We were on our way to the Chantry in Lothering. My mentor had been sent to acquire a shipment of lyrium and deliver it to the Circle. He felt that it would be a good experience for me to accompany him. He knew of my desire to escape and wanted to show me how mages, especially elven mages, are treated by the citizenry.” He paused briefly while he collected himself, “We were attacked by Chasind in the woods. They killed everyone; my mentor, the Templars…everyone…except me.”

Parean stared at him in stunned disbelief, her mouth agape, “Why did they keep you alive?” she asked hesitantly.

“To sell to the highest bidder.” His dark eyes held a mixture of anger and anguish as the words fell from his lips in disgust. “They were collecting elves to sell as slaves for the nobles of Ferelden.”

“But I thought there was no slavery in Ferelden?” She regretted the comment the moment it passed from her lips.

Thadan’s eyes burned with indignation, “So they say.” Thrusting his nose into the air, he said in a mocking noble tone, _“Elves are not slaves, they are servants; house workers who are compensated for their services.”_ Lowering his head, he hissed bitterly, “Yes, compensated so much that they are forced to live in the putrid slums of the Alienage, barely able to feed and clothe their families. Pretty, benign words do not change the fact that the elves are slaves none the less.”

“If you were sold to a noble family, then how did you end up with the Crows? Why didn’t the Templars in the Circle simply use your phylactery to track you down?” 

“I wasn’t sold to a noble family. An Antivan merchant, Ignacio, purchased me for 20 sovereigns. I later learned that, while not a Crow himself, he handles their affairs in Denerim. It seems that the Crows are very interested in adding mages to their ranks. As to using my phylactery…” his body shuddered as he shut his eyes tight against the memory, “my phylactery was…destroyed.”

“How is that possible? The apprentice phylacteries are secured in the Tower.” Her mind whirled as she tried to make sense of it all.

“My mentor warned me about trying to escape on our journey. He said that whenever an apprentice leaves the Tower, the Templars carry their phylactery with them against the possibility that the apprentice tries to escape. I told this to the Chasind leader and he smashed it to the ground.” A morose expression spread across his face, “To hide the fact that I was still alive, they put one of their elven captives in my robes, disfigured his face so he was unrecognizable, then killed him and threw his body in with the others.”

Parean was silent for a long moment, aghast at all she had heard, “Thadan…” she whispered, “What a horrible experience to go through…I…I have no words…” her voice trailed off.

“I see you have awakened.” Parean gasped in surprise at the sound of Loghain’s deep baritone voice resonating behind her. “Having a pleasant time catching up?” he muttered tersely; his harsh tone giving evidence to his dour mood.

Parean looked at Thadan and rolled her eyes in exasperation, “Yes to both,” she replied flatly, refusing to face him. “And I’m well, thank you for asking,” her words laced with sarcasm. “I’m still weak and extremely depleted of mana but that will be remedied after I make a few potions and get some rest.” Holding her staff with both hands, she lowered herself to her knees and began to work on Thadan’s binds. “Was it really necessary to lash him to a tree? He is no threat to us.” Struggling to loosen his ties, she noticed a look of fear in Thadan’s eyes as they darted from Loghain to her and back again. “What’s wrong Thadan?”

“He is standing right behind you,” he whispered nervously, “Parean…his sword…it’s drawn.”

“Loghain, put away your sword,” she breathed with an annoyed sigh. Grasping her staff from the ground, she slowly pulled herself upright and turned to face him. “I told you, he is no threat…” her words abruptly ceased when she realized that the tip of Loghain’s blade was pointed directly at her heart. Terror gripped her and she stared, wide-eyed, into his cold, unmoving icy blue eyes. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest; her breaths nothing more than shallow gasps as her throat constricted, “Wha…I don’t…Loghain…why?”

He leveled her with a stony gaze; his features twisted into a vicious scowl, “You are not Parean.” 

The malevolent tone in his voice left no doubt in Parean’s mind that he fully intended to kill her. She clung desperately to her staff as her legs began to buckle, driving the blade at its end into the ground. In her weakened state and with her mind spiraling wildly out of control, she barely noticed the brilliant white light from her amulet. Gradually, the enchantment did its work, calming her emotions and clearing her thoughts. 

Loghain stared down the length of his sword at her. _‘She is so weak, so frail, left completely spent from her battle with the assassins. Every outward sign tells me that she is Parean, but how is that possible?’_

_‘It is not her. You witnessed powers and behaviors that she did not previously possess. Do your duty and strike her down. Why do you hesitate?’_ his mind chided mercilessly.

Silent and unwavering, he watched as she struggled to regain control of herself; the glow from her amulet gradually fading away. She hesitated briefly before raising her head to meet his gaze. His heart clenched in his chest at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks, her eyes filled with unbridled fear and her body visibly shaking.

Try as she might to steady herself, her voice trembled in a barely audible whisper as she forced herself to face him, “What do you mean I’m not Parean? Have you taken leave of your senses? Who is it that you believe me to be then?” 

“I don’t know who or what you are,” he spat angrily, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, “You could be under the marsh witch’s control or perhaps when she revived you, she allowed a demon to enter your body. A highly probable outcome, seeing as blood magic was involved.”

Thadan shouted in bewilderment from behind her, “Blood magic?! Revived you?! Maker’s Sake, Parean. What is he talking about?” His question fell on deaf ears as both Parean and Loghain were solely focused on each other. 

_‘No…this can’t be happening…Oh Sweet Andraste, please…tell me this is not happening!’_ Parean’s heartbeat pounded thunderously in her ears as she stared at him with an expression of pure incredulity, “I am neither a thrall nor an abomination.” Her eyes softened as she took a cautious step forward, “Loghain, please, can you not see that it truly is me?”

Loghain glared at her with barely restrained contempt, “Fire, by your own admission, is the only element you are able to command. Yet tonight I witnessed you conjuring ice spells. Is it mere coincidence that you obtained this ability _after_ Morrigan’s blood magic ritual?”

Parean cast her eyes toward the ground, “No,” she breathed, “It is no coincidence. The ritual did infuse me with Morrigan’s ice power.” When her eyes met his again, regret splayed across her face, “I’m sorry…I wanted to tell you but Morrigan dissuaded me. She knew that you would strike us both down and…” she paused when her breath caught in her throat. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, her voice low and broken with a flood of emotion, “Loghain…I have no desire to die again. Just because I’ve gained a new power does not mean that I am not the same person.”

Feeling his resolve beginning to ebb, Loghain forced his expression to remain hard as he pressed on, “Before you dispatched the assassins, I stared into your eyes and saw a look of pure hatred. The words you spoke…you _enjoyed_ the thought of killing them. You _wanted_ to brutalize them. I have seen you in many battles before but never have you behaved so sadistically. The ‘Parean’ I know would never conceive of garnering pleasure from the torture of others, no matter how vile they may be.”

“Of course I wanted them dead!” Parean suddenly burst out, her voice rising up as her frustration began to grow, “They tried to kill you! If I hadn’t stepped in front of that arrow…” She shuddered at the image in her mind of Loghain’s frozen form shattering before her eyes. “I would eviscerate even The Maker himself were he to threaten you.” She stared intently into his eyes, her lips curving into her awkward smile, “I would do anything, give up everything that I am to protect you.” Reaching out her hand to him, she took another step forward, pressing the tip of his blade against her chest, “Please, don’t do this!”

_‘Do not allow your feelings for her to interfere. Strike now while you still have the opportunity!’_ Loghain knew what he must do and yet doubt still lingered in his mind. _‘What if I am wrong? Is there any possibility that she is not a threat?’_ Tightening his hand on the hilt of his sword, he pressed the tip harder against her chest. She winced in pain and her hand fell to her side. He saw her eyes widen with the realization that he would not be so easily deterred. “Do not ply your wiles on me, mage. I am sworn to protect those in my command from unnecessary danger and I will do my duty to rid any threat regardless of whatever or whoever that threat may be.”

She stared at him in shocked disbelief, “If you believe me to be such a threat to our party then why bother bandaging my wounds? You could have simply left me to die. Instead, you tended to my injuries and left me with my herb pouch and staff. It makes no sense to aid me if your intention was to strike me down.”

“It was not my intention at the time. While I was dressing your wounds, I replayed the battle in my mind. It was only then that the realization of what you had done occurred to me.” Loghain’s expression softened almost imperceptibly, “I was…uncertain…if what I saw truly happened or not and needed time to reflect on it.” He studied her face as she considered his words and his heart sank when a look of resignation slowly crept into her eyes.

“That’s why you went into the woods, to think about it and decide what to do.” She let out a heavy breath as her fingers carefully touched the point of his blade that still hovered dangerously close to her chest, “Since you are brandishing your sword at me, it’s more than obvious that you’ve made your decision.” Parean’s body suddenly stiffened, “I have come to a decision as well.” Her voice was calm and steady as she stared at Loghain defiantly, “I know I have no chance of defeating you, but I will fight for my life. I will not dishonor what Morrigan did for me, the risk she took in bringing me back to life, by simply allowing you to strike me down.” She tightened her grip on her staff and readied herself, “In the end you will kill me, but your victory will not be easily won.”

“No, Parean,” Loghain muttered in a low, somber tone, “there is no victory for me in this.” He reached for his shield and prepared himself for battle.

“Parean! Have you gone mad?!? You are in no condition to fight him!” Thadan pleaded as he struggled in vain to free himself.

Adrenaline flooded her body causing her heart to pound furiously as she struck her staff against the outside edge of his sword. She swept his blade down, driving the tip into the dirt. Though caught off-guard by the swiftness of her strike, Loghain recovered quickly and slashed his sword up toward her chest. Parean raised her staff to block his attack, twisting it over and bringing her blade down on the inside of his exposed forearm. He winced in pain as blood gushed from the gaping wound. With his injured arm no longer able to effectively support the weight of his sword, it tumbled to the ground with a loud **_‘clank’_**. Sensing her movement as she raised her blade, he hoisted his shield and struck her squarely in the chest. Parean’s body lurched back, the force of the blow dragging the tip of her blade up his side as she staggered backward before falling to the ground. Loghain quickly reached across his waist and slid his dagger from its sheath. He moved toward her, shield and dagger at the ready, only to be halted mid-stride when Parean encapsulated his feet in a thin layer of ice. Using the pommel of his dagger, he worked to free himself as she struggled to her feet.

“Loghain…” she panted, her temporary burst of energy rapidly draining away, “please…it…it doesn’t have to…to end like this.” She felt herself weakening as fresh blood soaked her tunic, the exertion of the fight having re-opened her wounds.

With one final strike, the last of the ice broke away and Loghain rose up to meet her gaze. His expression was fierce and threatening but his eyes held a sadness that was not lost on Parean. “I can see no other way for this to end.”

Flipping the dagger in his hand, Loghain raised it up and ferociously surged toward her. Parean forced herself to raise her blade in defense, her staff shaking uncontrollably from the effort. She stumbled backwards, desperately trying to flee from his attack. Her retreat was cut short when her back violently slammed into a tree. He was on her in seconds, his shield easily knocking her blade to the side and the point of his dagger rushing down to pierce her heart. In a futile attempt to protect herself, she struck the outside of his arm with her staff, deflecting the blow from her chest. The sound of her staff dropping to the ground went unnoticed as a blood-curdling scream burst from her followed by a deathly silence, punctuated only by her erratic sobbing.

Loghain stepped back and stared in wide-eyed disbelief at the sight before him. Parean was pinned to the tree with the dagger, _his_ dagger, buried to its hilt in her right shoulder. 

_‘What have I done?’_

_‘You have done your duty,’_ his mind stated with pride. _‘She is defenseless. Finish her.’_

_‘This is the woman I love. How can I simply murder her in cold-blood?’_ he retorted. A feeling of contempt and self-loathing washed over him.

_‘She is a dangerous mage. A threat to you, your party and perhaps all of Ferelden. Is your love for her worth that risk?’_ his mind countered harshly.

Loghain breathed a heavy sigh, _‘Forgive me, beloved.’_ His heart ached at the thought of what he must now do. _‘I thought darkspawn blood was the last poison I had to swallow.’_

With what little strength and mana she had regained gone, Parean was too weak to remove the dagger from her shoulder. Her legs sagged bringing the weight of her body to bear on the dagger making the pain all the more excruciating. Through bleary eyes, she watched Loghain’s approach, staring at him as he reached for his dagger. “Don’t…do…this…” she stammered, her constricted breathing making it difficult to speak. “Please…I…beg you…”

Gently, he cupped her chin, lifted her head and stared into her eyes. He saw in them a mixture of pleading and hopelessness. “I’m sorry, but I must do my duty.” His tone was filled with remorse, “You are a threat…I cannot take the risk…” his voice trailed off.

“I have been…a threat…to…everyone…around me…since…my birth…” She paused briefly to catch her breath, “That day…on the road with…the templars…I told you that I was…too dangerous…to live…begged you to…kill me…”

“I refused,” he said thoughtfully, his mind going back to that moment.

“Yes…you said that…my skills were…too valuable…to lose…Isn’t it possible…that my new skill…would be valuable…to our cause as well?” His brow furrowed as he considered her words. Her eyes softened and she managed a weak smile, “Loghain…” she whispered softly, “You trusted me then…please…trust me…now.”

Loghain mulled the idea over in his mind. _‘Strategically her argument is sound. I have little trust in Morrigan, yet I keep her in our party as her abilities have proven invaluable. Parean has never proven herself to be untrustworthy and this additional skill may aid us greatly in the coming battle.’_ His decision made, he placed her arm around his neck then slid his arm around her waist. “I do trust you,” he affirmed quietly. Grasping the pommel of his dagger, he yanked it from her body. She yelped loudly and collapsed against him. Dropping the dagger to the ground, he gathered her in his arms and carried her toward her tent. Her eyes were half closed as he gave her an intense glare, “Do not give me cause to regret sparing you.”

Parean gazed up at him affectionately, “Never…” she cooed, “never hurt you.”

Loghain suddenly chuckled as he entered her tent and carefully laid her down on the bedroll, “The pain in my arm and side would say otherwise. Your melee skills have greatly improved.”

She closed her eyes and smiled, “It seems you…taught me…well…” Parean didn’t see the endearing smile that crossed his lips as she slipped into darkness.

############################

A distant noise broke through the silence in Parean’s mind.

**_‘clippity-clop’ ‘clippity-clop’_ **

_‘What is that?’_ Her mind tried to identify the sound but to no avail.

**_‘clippity-clop’ ‘clippity-clop’_ **

She felt something blowing across her skin. _‘The wind? It feels as though I’m moving.’_

**_‘clippity-clop’ ‘clippity-clop’_ **

_‘Something is holding me against it. The scent seems so familiar to me.’_ The unidentifiable sound faded away. A faint voice, whispering softly, drifted through her clouded thoughts.

“Hold on, Parean. We have almost arrived.”

_‘Loghain! He’s the one holding me!’_ No matter how strongly she willed her eyes to open and her mouth to speak, they would not obey. She felt his arm tighten around her waist as an image of him appeared in her mind. _‘A dream…a beautiful dream…’_ was her last thought before falling back into darkness.

############################

“…attacked by assassins.”

Parean could barely understand Loghain’s words over the sound of his rapidly beating heart pounding in her ear. Warmth spread through her body, _‘Blessed Andraste, please, just let me remain like this forever.’_

“Cullen, take her to my chambers. I will summon the healer.”

_‘Muirne? Why are you here?’_ she wondered at the sound of her cousin’s voice. _‘Am I in The Tower?’_ A frightening thought gripped her, _‘Has this all been a dream? A fantasy that I brought to life in my own mind?’_

Her body was moving again. Loghain’s scent was gone and she felt the cold steel of armor pressed against her cheek. Sadness enveloped her and she welcomed the darkness as it shrouded her senses.

############################

The room was bathed in light from the mid-morning sun. Parean squinted against the brightness, examining her surroundings to get her bearings. She noticed a figure sitting in the large wing-backed chair a short distance from the bed. Raising herself up, she tried to focus her eyes on the form. “Muirne? Is that you?”

Muirne looked up from her book and smiled warmly at her cousin. Setting the book on the side table, she rose from the chair and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “Welcome back, Parean. It is good to see you again, though I wish it were under better circumstances. How do you fair?”

Parean flopped back down on the bed, her aching body immediately reminding her that such movements were not ideal at the moment. “Stiff, sore and exhausted but otherwise, I’m well.” She looked blankly at Muirne, “What happened? How did I get here?”

Muirne placed a hand on Parean’s leg, “The three of you arrived late last night. Loghain said that you had been attacked by assassins.” She raised a dubious eyebrow, “Is that true?”

Images from the previous night flooded Parean’s mind. “Loghain…Where is he? Is he all right?”

“He is fine,” she grunted in frustration. “The wound on his arm was deep but not serious and the one on his side was only superficial. At first, it appeared that he was more gravely injured since his tunic was covered in blood. Apparently, most of that blood was yours.” Muirne gave Parean’s leg a comforting squeeze, “I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that he refused to leave your side throughout the night.” Parean chuckled quietly when Muirne rolled her eyes in annoyance, “He paced around, barking orders to the healer and generally making an arse of himself. It was only after my assurances that you would recover and the healer’s threat to use a sleep spell on him that he finally retired to the guest chambers.” Her expression turned dark, “And how is it that you were so severely injured while his wounds were relatively minor?”

Knowing Muirne’s intense dislike of Loghain and not wanting to argue over the matter, Parean tried to change the subject, “What has happened to Thadan?”

“He is locked away in one of the holding cells until Cullen and I can determine what is to be done with him. It was quite surprising to see him after all these years.” The corner of her mouth flicked up in a slight smirk, “I must admit that Eira’s reaction to seeing him was rather amusing. It took two templars to pull them apart long enough to place him in the cell.”

Parean snickered at the thought, “I can imagine. They always did fancy one another.” She fixed her eyes on Muirne, her mood completely serious, “Muirne, you must let him go. He did not escape but was kidnapped and sold to the Crows. When he recognized me, he didn’t try to flee or harm me.” She reached out her hand and placed it on top of her cousin’s, “Please, give him a chance. He’s been through so much.”

Muirne patted her hand reassuringly, “Cullen and I will listen to what he has to say. Know that I will take your council to heart.” She slid up toward the head of the bed, bringing her face close to Parean’s and stared intensely into her eyes, “Now, answer my questions, Parean.”

“Questions? What questions are you referring to?” Parean’s smile was one of sweet, childlike innocence as she feigned an expression of complete ignorance.

Muirne’s chocolate-colored eyes narrowed as she stared at Parean with increasing agitation, “Parean…it has been a long, exhausting and emotional night and I am in no mood for your games. I will ask you again to please answer my questions.” 

Muirne spoke in that very quiet and very polite way that never failed to send a chill down Parean’s spine. She sighed heavily, knowing that there was no way to avoid answering any longer, “Yes, we were attacked.” She related the details of her battle with the assassins. 

“That still does not explain your stab wound or Loghain’s injuries.” Muirne remarked curiously.

Parean rolled onto her side, turning her back to Muirne, “Please Muirne, let it go. I do not wish to talk about it.”

“Very well,” Muirne stated flatly as she stood up, “then I will simply find Loghain and ask him myself.”

“No! Wait!” Parean called out, turning over and grabbing Muirne’s arm, “Please don’t go to him with this. I will tell you what happened.”

Muirne studied her cousin’s face carefully, “He did this to you, didn’t he?” Her mind considered the details of Parean’s fight with The Crows and the realization struck her, “He discovered your ice power and he tried to kill you,” she breathed quietly, contempt dripping from every word.

“Yes,” Parean whispered, her hand absentmindedly rubbing her throbbing shoulder, “and I don’t blame him for it. He saw a threat and he reacted as any skilled warrior would.”

Muirne could not believe what she was hearing and stared at Parean, dumbfounded. “How can you say that? Parean, you saved his life and he repays you by trying to kill you!”

Tension charged the air between the two cousins and Parean felt her own anger beginning to build, “He was only doing his duty, Muirne.” Parean growled, the shocked expression on Muirne’s face giving evidence to her tone’s desired effect.

Muirne leapt up and began pacing the room, “Andraste’s Flaming Sword, Parean. A man tries to senselessly murder you and you defend him? How, in The Golden City’s name, can you excuse what he did?”

Restless and irritated, Parean could lie still no longer. She flung the coverlets off and carefully climbed out of the bed. “I knew full well what his reaction would be were he to learn of my ice power.” Her expression softened, “Muirne, you didn’t see what I saw in his eyes. There was no hatred or malice, only sadness and regret for what he felt he must do. And…”

“And what?”

“And I believe he may actually have feelings for me as well.” Parean’s lips curved into her awkward smile. “He looked at me so tenderly, so affectionately. He held me in his arms and…he kissed me.” Her face flushed crimson at the memory.

“Was this _before_ or _after_ he tried to kill you?” Muirne scoffed. “Humph…he certainly has an ‘interesting’ way of showing his affection.”

Parean’s patience has reached its end, “I love him, Muirne! He is a man of honor and duty and I would have him no other way! Can’t you understand that?”

Muirne simply shook her head in resignation, “I don’t think I will ever understand you.”

“I would think you, of all people, would understand,” Parean spat viciously. “Cullen loves you but you must know that were you to show any signs of aberrant behavior, he would not hesitate to do his duty and strike you down.”

“Parean, you know that’s not…” Muirne’s words were cut off as Loghain came charging through the door.

“Parean, are you all right? I was coming to see how you were when I heard you shouting.” Loghain looked ill-at-ease as his eyes darted between the two mages.

“The concern you show for my cousin’s welfare is quite touching,” Muirne mocked sarcastically.

Parean glared at Muirne before turning to smile warmly at Loghain, “I am fine, Loghain.”

He cocked a questioning eyebrow at her, “Are you certain?” He gently laid his hand on her shoulder.

“Stay away from her.” Muirne’s eyes narrowed at Loghain, her face contorted into a menacing scowl.

“Muirne and I were just having a…minor disagreement.” Parean placed her hand on his and softly squeezed it.

“Yes…a minor disagreement.” Muirne slowly raised her arms as smoke began to billow from her hands and flames licked at her fingertips. “And if you do not wish to become fried nug bits, then I would suggest that you kindly leave…now.” 

“Parean, what’s going on here?” He stared at her, completely befuddled by Muirne’s threat. Though she was still smiling at him, he saw a glint of anger in her eyes. She gave his hand another squeeze before removing it from her shoulder. He watched as she raised her hands and instantly the familiar purple haze from her shield spell surrounded him.

“It’s nothing of consequence, Loghain.” Parean’s expression was hard and her tone flat, “I will deal with this.” She turned to face Muirne, “You are showing a disturbing and, might I say, very uncharacteristic lack of control, cousin.”

“On the contrary, cousin,” Muirne retorted, “I am in total control of my actions. I see a threat to my family and I am reacting accordingly.”

Parean slowly raised her arms, smoke and fire emanating from her hands, and she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, “Muirne…you are my family. We are the only family either of us has, and I love you. That being said, do not doubt that I will fight you to protect him.” Silence filled the room for several moments as the two mages glared defiantly at each other.

“I know you would,” Muirne said at last, breaking the deafening silence. “As you wish, Parean. It is your life and your choice.” 

“Thank you, Muirne. You know how much this means to me.” Parean smiled at her cousin.

Muirne smirked, “Sometimes you are too stubborn for your own good.”

“And sometimes you are too smart for your own good.” Parean quipped in return. With the matter settled, Parean dispelled her shield from Loghain.

Loghain stared in utter confusion at Parean, “What just happened?”

Parean winked at Muirne before turning to face Loghain, “I told you, a minor disagreement. It is resolved now.”

Loghain pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “If this is how your family solves a minor disagreement, I shudder to think what would occur in a major dispute.”

“It’s not for the faint of heart, believe me,” Parean laughed casually. She placed a hand on his arm and gestured for the door, “Would you excuse us for a moment? There is another matter I need to discuss with Muirne.”

“I’ll inform the Templars to prepare a good quantity of buckets of water, just in case.” Loghain chuckled as he turned to leave.

Parean giggled softly, “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Parean shut the door then turned to face Muirne, her face etched with worry, “I think there is something wrong with me.”

“There are a great many things wrong with you,” Muirne snickered. “Your feelings for the arse that just left being the greatest of them.”

“I’m serious, Muirne,” Parean snapped harshly.

Muirne’s expression immediately turned somber at the terrified look in Parean’s eyes. She closed the distance between them in an instant and hugged her gently. “I’m sorry, I thought you were teasing. What troubles you so?”

“I fear I may be losing my mind.” Parean’s voice trembled as she began to pace nervously, “You know how my mind speaks to me in such a cruel manner…”

“Yes,” Muirne affirmed cautiously.

“Its comments have always been directed at me.” She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to calm her shaking body, “Last night, while fighting The Crows, something disquieting happened. I was weak, my strength and mana almost completely gone, and I heard…another voice. It was faint and I had difficulty understanding what it was saying but I know it was trying to influence my actions. I wanted them to die, and the more I thought about it the stronger that desire became.”

“Given your situation, that’s understandable.” Muirne rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Parean, you were fighting for your life, for Loghain’s life. Their deaths meant your safety.”

Parean shook her head dejectedly, her eyes welling with tears, “You don’t understand. This voice…it’s almost as if it was…feeding on my desire to kill them. I wanted them to suffer, to die horribly and gruesomely. I’ve never felt anything like that before. Loghain said I was acting sadistic, taking pleasure in the thought of torturing them.” She wiped the tears from her eyes then gently grasped her amulet, “I even attempted to rip off my amulet to unleash my power. If Loghain had not been there to stop me…” she shut her eyes tight, shuddering at the thought.

Muirne was silent for a long moment, “You’ve said that you ‘hear’ the darkspawn and the Archdemon. Is it possible that they may be effecting you?”

“I don’t think so. They don’t really ‘speak’ in the common sense. The taint allows us to sense their presence. Alistair told me once that some of the older Grey Wardens can understand the Archdemon but, even then, it seems to be a rare occurrence.” Parean held out her hands to Muirne, “What am I to do?”

Muirne considered what Parean had told her. Suddenly, her body stiffened and she stared at Parean with an unnerving intensity, “It is possible that this is another unforeseen consequence of Morrigan’s ritual.”

Parean’s eyes widen in shock, “Oh Sweet Andraste! You don’t think…” Parean gasped. “No…no! Morrigan would not do that to me. There must be another explanation.”

“I think you need to speak with her and find out exactly how this ritual is performed.”

Lost in her own thoughts, Parean barely comprehended Muirne’s suggestion. _‘Could Loghain have been right?’_ She stared blankly at Muirne, “Loghain…” she breathed, “I was able to dissuade him from killing me once. If he were to find out about this…” Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of a loud knock on the door.

“Parean!” Loghain’s muffled voice called out from behind the door.

Parean’s hands were still shaking as she reached for the handle. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she slowly opened the door, “Yes, Loghain?”

Loghain looked at her curiously. He noticed her agitated state but quickly dismissed it as a normal result of a lengthy conversation with Muirne. “Are you finished? We need to depart for Denerim.”

“We were just finishing our talk,” she assured him. “I would like to say farewell to Eira and Thadan before we leave, however.”

“I’m sure you’ll find Eira with Thadan in the holding cells downstairs,” Muirne interjected.

“Say your goodbyes then meet me at the docks.” Loghain nodded stiffly toward Muirne, “Thank you for your assistance, Acting First Enchanter.”

Muirne crossed her arms on her chest in a rigid two-arm salute, “You are welcome, Warden Commander. We stand ready to assist the Grey Wardens in whatever they may require.”

The holding cells were a dark and foreboding place that most mages spent a good deal of effort trying to avoid. As Parean and Muirne entered the section with Thadan’s cell, they saw Eira sitting on a stool chattering excitedly, oblivious to everything but Thadan. A mischievous smile touched Parean’s lips. She motioned for Muirne to stop, pointing at Eira then pressing her finger to her own lips. Muirne covered her eyes with her hand while shaking her head disapprovingly. Parean slowly raised her hand as small snowball began to form in her palm. After verifying that it was made of snow and not ice, she took careful aim and threw it forward, striking Eira on the back of the head.

“What in The Maker’s name?” Eira’s surprised voice called out. She glared in the direction Thadan pointed, his hand shaking from laughter. Her eyes widened and a smile lit her face when she saw Parean. “Firebug! You’re back!” She jumped up, toppling the stool, and ran over to hug her.

“Mmmph!” Parean winced as Eira grabbed her tightly. “Careful, Eira…still very sore,” she groaned softly.

Eira teasingly waved a finger at her, “Serves you right for hitting me with a snowball.” Her high-pitched giggle brought a smile to Parean’s face. “Guess I can’t call you ‘firebug’ anymore.”

Parean looked down at her elven friend affectionately, “Well, for you I’ll make an exception.” She casually brushed the snow from Eira’s hair, “I don’t have much time. Loghain is waiting for me at the docks. I just came to say goodbye to you both.”

Eira frowned at her, “Can’t you stay for a while longer?”

“I wish I could,” Parean sighed, “but I really can’t keep Loghain waiting.”

“Yes, Maker forbid that you keep the great Loghain Mac Tir waiting,” Muirne muttered under her breath.

Ignoring her remark, Parean walked over to Thadan’s cell, “How are you, Thadan?”

“I’m well, though I’m not certain for how long,” his eyes glanced over to Muirne. He reached his arm out to her and they clasped each other’s forearms. “Thank you for saving me.”

Parean nodded, “Eira would never have forgiven me if I did not.” She leaned in and whispered, “Be honest with Cullen and Muirne when they question you. I have already spoken to her on your behalf and she is willing to listen. I think you’ll find things are very different than you remember.”

Thadan smiled warmly, “So Eira has been saying. Goodbye Parean. Maker protect you.”

“Goodbye Thadan. Be well.” Parean turned to Eira and hugged her, “Goodbye Eira. Take care till we meet again.”

Eira’s soft grey eyes filled with tears, “Goodbye Firebug. Maker’s blessings be with you. And…thank you…for finding Thadan for me.”

Parean chuckled softly, “You’re welcome but I didn’t really find him. He found me.”

“I know, he told me about your meeting.” Eira began bouncing like a giddy child, “An assassin! Isn’t that exciting?!?”

Parean’s eyes danced with amusement, “Eira, you’re the only person I know who would be excited over having an assassin as a boyfriend.”

Parean and Muirne walked in silence to the main doors of The Tower. They stood in the Great Main Hall hugging each other for several moments. Parean stepped back from her cousin’s embrace and looked at her sadly, “Well, barring any more unexpected incidents, this will probably be the last time I see you for quite some time. I know you don’t agree with my feelings for Loghain but…thank you…for at least trying to understand.”

Muirne gently grasped Parean’s shoulders, “Cousin, I understand more than you know.” A sullen look filled her eyes, “Sometimes duty calls on us to act even when we do not wish to. Talk to Morrigan. Hopefully she can allay your fears and put your mind at ease.”

Parean clasped her hand tightly, “I will. I’m sure there is a simple solution to all this and my worries are all for naught. We can always hope, right?”

“Yes,” Muirne whispered sadly, “sometimes all we can do is hope. Goodbye Parean. Be safe.”

“And you as well. Goodbye Muirne.”

############################

They made the journey to Denerim in only two days time. Loghain briefly instructed her on how to balance herself at a full gallop to prevent a re-occurrence of her previous mishap. He had informed her that they would need to ride quickly to make up for the time they had lost, only stopping for short periods to rest themselves and the horses.

Parean stared in awe as they crested the hill and Denerim was finally in sight. The mighty turrets of the Royal Palace towered over the city. Structures of all shapes and sizes, from the exquisitely adorned mansions of the nobles to the more modest commoner dwellings, littered the landscape. She caught a glimpse of what must have been the Alienage. Cut off from the rest of the city, its dilapidated buildings were crowded together in the most repugnant and squalid conditions. Sadness filled her heart and her thoughts drifted to Thadan and Eira. _‘What a horrible way to treat another living being,’_ she thought in disgust.

Guards were posted at the main gates to the city. As they approached the guards drew their weapons but, upon seeing Loghain, they quickly re-sheathed them. They hurriedly opened the gates to allow them entry, conspicuously averting their eyes downward. Once inside, a young elven boy ran up to take their reins, waiting patiently for them to dismount. 

Loghain walked with purpose through the Denerim Marketplace, Parean jogging to keep pace at his side. As they passed The Chantry, he stopped abruptly when a priest grabbed his arm.

“Teyrn Loghain, why are there no Templars guarding this mage?” She callously droned, her cold, dark eyes glaring at Parean suspiciously.

Leveling the full brunt of his icy blue stare on her, Loghain ripped his arm from her grasp. He was in no mood to deal with a sanctimonious prig. “She is of no concern to you. Parean is a Grey Warden and not bound by Chantry law. I am Warden Commander, not a teyrn, and she is under my protection.” Without another word he turned and continued toward the palace.

“General Loghain!” A guard called out as they crossed the courtyard and hurried up the steps to the palace door. 

Loghain’s intense scowl silenced him instantly, “Where is Cailan?”

“I’m not certain,” came the guard’s nervous reply. “Perhaps in the Throne Room.”

“Idiot,” was all that Loghain offered in reply before pushing the door open and rushing inside.

“Please forgive him,” Parean called out as she ran past the noticeably shaken guard.

Charging down the long hallway, Loghain burst through the door of the Throne Room only to find it empty. Muffled voices could be heard behind the door to the War Room. He covered the distance with only a few strides and flung the door open. Cailan and Cauthrien bolted from their chairs, startled by the sudden intrusion.

“Loghain!” Cailan called out as he crossed the room to greet him. “Anora, she’s…”

“Silence Cailan!” Loghain growled. “Just…take me to her.”

Cailan was well aware that impeding Loghain in his current frame of mind was a fool’s errand. He nodded sheepishly and motioned for them to follow. They climbed the wide, spiral staircase that led to the king and queen’s private quarters, stopping outside the royal bedchamber. Cailan wisely remained silent when Loghain cast him a horrified glance.

Loghain stared blankly at the door as he struggled to retain his composure. He took in a long breath before reaching out to slowly open the door. Hesitating for moment, he turned to Parean and gestured for her to enter.

Parean whispered softly, “Are you certain? Perhaps I should remain here.”

Loghain looked at her with eyes sunken and glazed over with grief. His growing anxiety was plainly visible in his expression. “No,” he murmured quietly. “It was you who convinced me that I must do this. It is only fitting that you be with me to see it through.”

Parean saw the silent pleading look in his eyes and her heart ached, “As you wish.” She gave him a sympathetic look, forcing herself to choke back the tears that threatened to flow freely, as she stepped into the room. _‘I must be strong for him. He needs my support, my strength. Becoming a sobbing fool will not help him now.’_

Loghain closed and locked the door behind them. His body stiffened when Parean unexpectedly gasped. She moved close to him, placing her hand on his and her arm around his waist. He felt her cheek against his shoulder as she hugged him tightly. Willing his body to move, he turned to face the reality of a parent’s worst nightmare.

Anora’s still form lay in the center of the large bed. Her arms rested at her sides on top of the coverlets and her long, golden blonde hair was spread out over her pillow. _‘To look at her, one might think her merely sleeping,’_ Loghain thought mournfully as he moved closer. Standing at her bedside, he stared at her and his heart shattered. Her skin was a dull ashen grey and the bruising on her eyes and chin matched the purple-blue hue of her lips. His stomach wrenched and his innards felt as though they were being torn apart. _‘My child…my Anora…you truly are gone…’_ Overwhelmed with grief and anguish, his head fell into his hands and his legs threatened to buckle.

Parean stood silent, her hands pressed tightly against her mouth, unable to comprehend the sight before her. She was jolted from her reverie when she saw Loghain’s body begin to sag. Quickly crossing the room, she grabbed a chair and slid it behind him. The chair creaked loudly from the force of his weight as he collapsed.

Moving the chair closer to Anora’s bed, Loghain gently laid his head next to her, his face buried. His hands gripped the coverlet tightly, turning his fingers ghastly white. No longer able to restrain himself, he wept openly, the coverlets barely able to muffle his gut-wrenching sobs. 

Tears spilled down Parean’s cheeks, her own body wracked with sobs. It broke her heart to see his suffering. “Loghain…” she whimpered softly. Gently, she reached out her hand to comfort him.

Loghain’s body relaxed slightly when he felt her tenderly stroke his hair. His heart skipped a beat as her soft voice whispered to him.

“Father…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Sorry to those of you who wished for Anora to actually be dead...I like my version of her too much to kill her off...lol...and if anyone is skeptical of Loghain's breakdown, *spoiler follows*...there are three times in The Stolen Throne that reference Loghain crying and in two of those he was mourning someone. Remember, this is his only child...I can't see how he wouldn't breakdown..._


	21. Vindication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Parean confronts a small part of her past..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I must say that I've been waiting anxiously to write this chapter practically since the beginning of my story! Parean is finally tapping into her inner strength and starting to realize that she doesn't have to take crap from anyone..._

**Chapter 21 – Vindication**

Loghain’s body stiffened as Anora continued to gently stroke his hair. “Father, please don’t…” She whispered soothingly; her voice hoarse and brimming with emotion, “I am well.”

_‘Can it be? Anora is alive?’_ Loghain’s mind whirled at the possibility. Bolting upright, he stared into his daughter’s piercing deep blue eyes. “Anora…you’re alive…” he breathed softly as though the mere utterance of the words might alter the realization.

Anora winced in pain as her swollen and badly bruised skin crinkled into as much of a warm expression as she could manage, “Yes, father.” She held her hand out to him, tears streaming down the sides of her face.

Rising from his chair, Loghain sat on the edge of her bed and cupped her hand in his. A brilliant smile spread across his face as he clutched her hand to his chest. “How is it that you survived the attack? It was said to have been a massive assault.” His tone grew somber and shame clouded his eyes, “Forgive me, I should have been here to protect you.”

Indignation lit Anora’s eyes, “Really, father. I am not a child.” She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, “It is because of you that I yet live. Even though mother strongly objected, you refused to coddle me as a child. You taught me about strength and duty and how to fight strategically. When I was grown, you gave me the leather armor and bow that grandfather made for you.” Slowly and with great effort, she sat up and gently wiped the tears from his eyes, “You gave me ability and the means to protect myself and defend my country.”

Loghain gazed lovingly at her, carefully wiping the tears from her eyes as he tenderly kissed her forehead, “You have always made me proud.”

Parean stood behind Loghain in silence, overwhelmed with awkwardness at witnessing such a tender and private moment between father and daughter. She scanned the injuries to Anora’s face. They appeared to be several days old and she wondered why they had been left unattended. Closing her eyes, she used her healer’s sight to quickly examine Anora’s body, finding that all of her severe injuries had been healed. There were several areas that remained bruised and there appeared to be lacerations in her abdomen. _‘I do not want to disturb them, but as a healer I must make her aware.’_ Reluctantly she moved to the head of the bed, “Pardon my intrusion, your majesty,” she spoke softly causing both Loghain and Anora to start in surprise, “but might I ask whom The Circle sent as your healer?”

Anora hesitated for a moment as she had not noticed that Parean was in the room. “Wynne has been attending me. Why do you ask?”

Parean flushed with embarrassment, “I was curious about your injuries that have not been healed. With the rumors of Arl Eamon’s grave condition and your…death…I thought that The Circle had sent Wynne to Redcliffe and her apprentice, Zephrim, to Denerim. He would be more than capable of tending to the injured, but of course they would send the most experienced healer to the palace. It was foolish of me to think otherwise. I apologize, your majesty.”

“No apology necessary,” Anora stated flatly. “I think it a reasonable assumption, given that I was ‘dead’ and Cailan still lived.” Her tone turned thoughtful, “I’m unsure as to why she didn’t heal my bruising. I was told that I remained unconscious for several days, only awakening last morning. When I questioned her about it, she simply said that they were of no consequence and would heal naturally over time. I suspect that she was more concerned with my more severe injuries.”

“She gave no other reason?” Parean gently prodded.

Anora grunted softly in annoyance, “I did not have the opportunity to question her further. She took it upon herself to scold me for engaging in the battle. Apparently, it is undignified and inappropriate for a queen to behave in such a way. According to her, I should have hidden myself away like a scared child.”

“She dares to chastise The Queen for doing her duty?” Loghain growled with contempt.

Parean shook her head knowingly, the reasoning becoming immediately clear to her. “And I imagine you expressed your disagreement with her.”

Anora’s eyes flashed with defiance, “Indeed I did. I informed her that it was not her place to question my actions; that she was there to treat my wounds and nothing more.”

Parean sighed heavily as she cast her eyes to the floor, _‘Oh Wynne. I can almost understand you scarring me but to do this to The Queen?’_

Loghain stared at Parean, waiting for her to respond. He watched as she stood silent, disappointment splayed across her features. When her fingers began to lightly rub her scars the realization struck him. His eyes narrowed dangerously, “Leaving the bruising is akin to what she did to you, isn’t it? Anora’s ‘punishment’ for speaking against her.”

Parean raised her head to meet Loghain’s gaze, “While I can’t say for certain, I would not disregard the possibility.” Turning her attention to Anora, her expression softened into one of sympathy, “When Wynne holds a strong opinion about something, she can behave in a very petty manner toward those who do not agree with her.” She lifted her hair to expose her scars, “I have also been the unfortunate recipient of Wynne’s wrath.” Shocked at herself for speaking in such a harsh manner about The Queen’s healer, she quickly covered her scars, “Forgive me, your majesty. I have spoken out-of-turn. It is inappropriate for me to speak of the Senior Enchanter in such a way.”

Anora chuckled softly, “I find it entirely appropriate. She has shown herself to be a self-righteous prig.” She studied the purplish-blue spots on her arms before lifting her hands to tenderly touch her face, “I would have you do Wynne’s duty and heal my remaining injuries.”

Parean bowed slightly, “As you wish, your majesty.” She hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Before I do, there is…another issue that I must discuss with you.”

“Very well,” Anora’s carriage straightened and she stared at Parean expectantly.

“Forgive me,” she began, feeling the heat rise from her face as her skin flushed a bright crimson, “but I took the liberty of briefly examining you and I may have found an injury to your abdomen as yet unhealed.”

“Another injury?” The flat, neutral tone in Anora’s voice was matched by the steely look in her eyes. “Is it serious? I’ve spoken to Wynne several times about my feeling out-of-sorts but she remarked that it was just my body recovering from its injuries.”

“That may be true,” Parean replied tentatively. “Without a more thorough examination, I cannot be certain of the severity of the injury, or if one even exists. If it does, that may also be a cause for how you feel.”

Loghain interjected, “Then begin your examination immediately.” His hardened, stony expression was betrayed by the glint of concern in his eyes.

Parean cast a quick glance at Loghain before turning her attention back to Anora, “I will do so if you wish me to, your majesty. My only concern is what might occur should Wynne find out…”

Loghain interrupted her with a disgusted grunt as he began to pace the room, “Humph! Parean, why is this even a subject for discussion? To The Void with what Wynne thinks! This is my daughter’s well-being you’re discussing and I don’t give a sod how that cantankerous old crone will feel about it!” He glared at her with an intense, burning irritation in his eyes, “You will examine her now…” his words were steady and precise, his tone quiet and authoritative, “It is my command.”

“Father, stop treating me like a child!” Anora spat angrily.

“I seem to recall _you_ treating _me_ like a child in Redcliffe when you ordered Parean to examine me!” Loghain retorted gruffly.

Parean stared dumbstruck at Loghain, “Are you serious? You are ordering me to examine someone without their consent? Someone who is not under your command?”

“Yes, I am.” Loghain glared at her, his “General’s Persona” on full display, “Do not make me repeat myself again, _Junior Warden._ ”

An exasperated sigh escaped Parean’s lips, “And everyone thinks that I’m emotionally unstable.” Her eyes narrowed as she returned his glare, her words dripping with sarcasm, “I must respectfully refuse your order, _Warden Commander._ As a warden, I am bound to your service but as a healer, I will not perform any procedure without the patient’s consent.” Before he could answer, she turned back to face Anora, “What is your wish, your majesty?”

“Do what you must,” she stated calmly. “I want to know if I have any untreated injuries. After you have finished your examination, you are to heal me properly.”

Parean nodded in acknowledgment, “As you say, your majesty.” She turned to give Loghain a smug look before focusing on her task. “I will need you to lie down, if you please.” Anora silently complied as Parean began to prepare her mind. “I will need to remove the coverlet. Would it make you more comfortable if I ask your father to leave the room?”

Loghain huffed in offense, “I have no intention of going anywhere.”

Parean threw him a cool, sideways glance, “I wasn’t asking for your opinion.”

Anora stared at Loghain and saw the anxiousness and determination in his icy blue eyes. “Is the coverlet all that you need removed?”

“I believe so,” Parean replied. “Whether or not you will need to remove your night clothing will depend upon what, if anything, I find.”

“Then he can remain here.” Anora smiled at the look of relief on Loghain’s face.

“Very well.” Parean reached down and slowly pulled the coverlet back until it rested at the foot of the bed. “I will begin with healing the bruising and swelling. This will not only relieve your pain but it will aid me in detecting any other injuries. You should feel no discomfort, just a slight tingling. If anything I do causes you pain, please let me know right away.”

“I will,” she agreed with a slight nod. Letting out a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to relax her body, “Begin when you are ready.”

Parean’s hands hovered over Anora’s head, her blue healing aura removing all traces of the swelling and bruising that distorted the queen’s features. She forced herself to ignore Loghain’s constant pacing as her hands slowly drifted down Anora’s body, healing the remaining outward injuries. “I have finished healing your bruises, your majesty. How do you feel?”

Tentatively, Anora stretched her arms and legs. For the first time since she awoke, all of the pains and aches she had suffered were gone. “Much better now that I am able to move without discomfort.” 

“Have all of your symptoms been relieved?” Parean silently hoped that she erred in her finding of Anora’s internal injury. Revealing Wynne’s mistake would not sit well with the Senior Enchanter.

Anora remained still and silent for several moments, “I am unable to describe how I feel, except to say that it is not normal for me.” She rested her hands on her abdomen, “There is a small amount of pain in this area.”

_‘I was right,’_ Parean sighed inwardly, _‘Wynne did miss this injury.’_ She forced herself to concentrate on her task, “What kind of pain do you feel?”

Anora expression was thoughtful as she tried to gauge her level of pain, “Only a mild ache.” Her fingers pressed down and she suddenly winced, “The pain rises when pressure is applied.”

“Enough!” Loghain interjected with an impatient grunt. “Why are you wasting time talking? Do your duty and heal her!”

Parean glared at Loghain in annoyance. Seeing the anxious look in his eyes helped to ease her growing frustration at his badgering. Her eyes softened as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Healing of this nature takes time, Loghain.” Nodding toward Anora’s dressing table, she smiled and tried to sound as soothing as possible, “There’s a wash basin over there. Why don’t you clean up a bit then sit down and let me tend to the queen properly.”

Loghain’s protest was halted when Anora’s irritated voice intervened, “Father, do as Parean asks. How can you expect her to do her duty with your constant interruptions?”

Loghain bowed his head in resignation, “Very well, Anora.” He walked over and stood before the dressing table. He glanced over his shoulder at Parean, “Tell me,” he muttered sardonically, “do I get a reward for sitting quietly and behaving myself? A cookie perhaps?”

Anora let out a heavy sigh, “You’re acting like a petulant child.”

Parean chuckled under her breath, “If you like. I assume you would prefer it to be edible, so you’ll have to bake it yourself.” A warm, gentle smile spread across her lips, “You are a much more proficient cook than I.”

Anora stared at Parean in stunned silence. _‘This is not the same insecure, stuttering mage I met in Redcliffe. There is a comfortable ease to their banter…as though they’ve known each other for a lifetime.’_ She peered at Loghain’s reflection in the looking glass that hung on the wall behind the dressing table. Though his posture was rigid, she noticed his lips curl up into a slight smile. She watched as his stony mask momentarily melted away leaving an endearing expression in its wake. _‘I haven’t seen a woman elicit such a look of tenderness from him in many years,’_ she smiled inwardly. Turning her attention back to Parean, she saw that the young mage’s face was beaming with an expression remarkably similar to Loghain’s. _‘It would seem that Parean feels the same way towards you, father.’_

“Shall we begin, your majesty?”

“Yes, Parean. By all means.” Anora closed her eyes and silently contemplated the scene she has just witnessed.

“Yes, and be quick about it,” Loghain barked from across the room.

Parean let out a resigned sigh, muttering under her breath, “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” She closed her eyes and began her mental preparations, “I will be examining your entire body to determine if there are any other injuries aside from the one in your abdomen. You should feel only a warming sensation as my hands pass over you.” Beginning at Anora’s head, her healer’s sight began its slow, methodical search of the queen’s internal organs. With her concentration completely focused on her task, Parean was wholly unaware of the commotion occurring on the other side of the room.

Loghain watched from his seat near the dressing table as Parean began her excruciatingly slow examination of his daughter. Nervous energy coursed through his body and he struggled to resist the urge to take control of the situation. His mind became distracted when he heard the muffled sound of raised voices from behind the door. Not wanting anything to disrupt Parean’s concentration, he hurried over to the door, quickly unlocked it and stepped into the hallway. “What is going on out here?” The harshness of his tone brought the heated conversation to an abrupt halt.

“Loghain, this is Senior Enchanter Wynne from The Circle of Magi,” Cailan ground out with great restraint, the frustration he felt plainly visible on his face. “She is rather…insistent…upon being permitted to enter the bedchamber. I have been attempting to explain that you were to be given as much time alone with Anora as you required.”

“Warden Commander Loghain,” Wynne muttered quietly with a slight bow. “I’m sure you can understand how imperative it is that I see to your daughter’s needs without delay.”

Loghain’s eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized the old mage. Her stark white hair was tightly secured in a short tail behind her head accentuating the deep crevices that lined her face. Cool, steely grey eyes stared back at him with an air of smugness and entitlement that grated on his already frayed nerves. “So, you are Wynne. Parean has told me a great many things about you.”

“Ah yes, Parean,” Wynne sighed. “Poor child, cursed from birth to carry the dangerous power that is inherent in all the mages of her family. You would do well to remain wary of her.”

The patronizing tone in Wynne’s voice only served to further irritate Loghain. His icy blue eyes were hard and cold as they bore into her. “Perhaps it’s your apparent ineptitude that should concern me. Parean has not only healed the injuries you saw fit to ignore but has discovered one that you missed entirely,” he growled with barely contained rage.

Wynne’s shocked gasp and indignant expression spoke volumes, “How dare she!” With the agility of a much younger woman, she brushed past Loghain and stormed into the room, Cailan and Loghain close on her heels. “Your highness! What is the meaning of this?”

Anora turned a menacing glare towards Wynne, “Silence! You are disturbing my healer’s work!”

With the barest hint of a smile, Parean whispered quietly, “Please, your majesty. I need you to remain still. I have nearly completed my examination.”

Wynne’s refute died on her lips as Cailan stepped in front of her, his handsome features twisted into a fierce scowl, “You heard The Queen’s command. Refuse and I will have you forcibly removed from the palace.”

A tense silence filled the room for several minutes. Parean keenly felt four sets of eyes on her as she finished her task. “All of your injuries have been healed…”

“Of course they have,” Wynne burst out pompously. “Your impudence in believing that you know more than The Circle’s Senior Healer is really quite shocking. You forget your place.”

“All of your injuries have been healed,” Parean continued, ignoring Wynne’s outburst, “save the ones in your abdomen. They are not severe, only minor lacerations and abrasions. It will be a simple matter to repair them.”

Wynne’s carriage straightened as she stared intensely at Parean, “Step aside Parean. I will verify this supposed injury and heal it myself, if it truly exists.” She took a step toward the bed only to be blocked, once again, by Cailan.

“You will remain where you are,” Cailan’s voice boomed with authority, “Parean will heal Anora.” Cailan’s stern gaze and overbearing presence affirmed that the matter was settled, leaving Wynne to fume in silence.

Try as she might, Parean could not conceal her self-satisfied grin, “As you command, Sire.”

As he had done for so many years with Maric, Loghain let Cailan take the lead role. He stood in the background and silently observed the situation, ready to intervene should the need arise. Satisfied that his son-in-law had things well in hand, he turned his attention to Parean. He chuckled softly at her grin, _‘She is getting a great deal of pleasure out of having the advantage over Wynne.’_ Panic gripped him when her eyes flew open and her brow furrowed with a look of concern. He covered the distance to the end of the bed in seconds, “Parean, is something wrong?” he uttered, trying to keep his voice calm. When she did not respond, his concern mounted but was quickly relieved when she flashed him a warm smile, mischief dancing in her eyes.

Parean looked at Wynne with mock curiosity, “Did you conduct a thorough examination of The Queen after you healed her?”

“Of course I did!” Wynne bellowed in righteous indignation. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Just what are you insinuating young lady?”

“I am merely suggesting that, perhaps, your…advanced years…have begun to affect your healing skills.” Parean’s face beamed with delight at Wynne’s stunned expression.

“You dare…” Wynne muttered, her dignified composure gradually slipping away.

Parean stared at Wynne, her words brimming with sarcasm and resentment, “Or perhaps your skills are more suited to sterilizing women than ascertaining when they are with child.”

“With child?” Anora whispered breathlessly, bolting upright in her bed.

Smiling joyfully at Anora and Cailan, Parean bowed her head in acknowledgment, “Allow me to be the first to congratulate you, your majesties.” Her eyes softened as she turned her gaze to Loghain, “Congratulations to you as well…Grandpa Loghain.”

The room was hushed as Cailan, Anora and Loghain remained motionless, the reality of Parean’s revelation slowly sinking into their minds. Anora looked up at Parean, her eyes glazed over with shock, “My injury…” she muttered, gently caressing her abdomen, “was the child…my child…harmed?”

Parean sat on the edge of the bed and gave her hand a reassuring pat, “No harm has come to your child. Left untreated, however, it may have put both yourself and your child at risk as your pregnancy advanced.”

Anora gave her an appreciative smile, “Thank you Parean.” Slowly rising from her bed, she walked over to stand in front of Cailan, tears beginning to well in her eyes.

His mind still whirling, Cailan stared at his wife in disbelief, “A child…” he breathed, “we are going to have a child…” His lips spread into a glorious smile, lighting his face like a beacon as he drew her into his arms.

_‘Anora is with child…my grandchild…I am going to be a grandfather…’_ Loghain stood in stunned silence, visions of holding his newborn grandchild in his arms flooding his mind.

Rising from the bed, Parean moved to stand beside him. Without thinking she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. Her heart began to race and she sighed contently when his arms enveloped her. Pulling back slightly, her tender gaze met his eyes and her lips formed into the awkward smile she reserved only for him. “Congratulations, Loghain,” she whispered softly in a low, melodic tone. “I am so happy for you…for all of you.” Reluctantly, she released him and placed a hand on his arm. Gesturing toward Cailan and Anora, her voice held a hint of sadness as she gave him a gentle nudge, “You should go and be with your family.”

Loghain nodded slowly, “Yes, I should.” He held her for a moment longer, his arms feeling empty when he finally slid them from around her. His eyes shimmered with affection as he quietly murmured, “Thank you Parean. For everything you have done.” He turned and crossed the room to join Cailan and Anora. He began to gently stroke his daughter’s hair, “Anora…”

Stepping back from Cailan’s embrace, Anora turned to face Loghain, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, “Father!” She threw her arms around his neck and they held each other as Loghain slowly rocked her.

Parean discreetly headed for the door, motioning for Wynne to follow, “Come. We should give them some privacy.” She stumbled to a halt when Wynne grabbed her arm.

“What have you done?” The underlying accusation in Wynne’s voice was blatantly obvious.

Utter confusion splayed across Parean face as she ripped her arm free of Wynne’s grasp, “What, in Andraste’s name, are you talking about?”

“What have you done to The Queen?”

Anora angrily retorted, “She has done nothing _to_ me but has, in fact, done a great deal _for_ me. Not only has she given me the happiest news of my life, she has potentially saved my life and that of the future heir to the throne as well.”

Wynne spun around in surprise and found herself face to face with Anora. Her expression softened into an almost motherly look, “Your highness, you do not understand. This mage cannot be trusted to be near you, The King or anyone. She wields a dangerous power that puts everyone around her at risk of death. Should she lose control…”

“You will not speak of her in that way.” Loghain’s cold stare and hardened features were focused squarely on the old mage. “I am well aware of what Parean is capable of and I trust her with my life. I will not tolerate you, or anyone, treating her in such a despicable manner.” His eyes narrowed as his voice became dark and threatening, “Choose your words carefully, mage.”

Wynne fought the urge to recoil from Loghain’s rebuke, “Then you know I speak the truth of her power. That is not the only reason you should be wary of her. She conspired with a blood mage and aided in his escape from The Circle’s justice.” She glared at Parean in disgust, “She may well be a blood mage herself. It was only her joining The Grey Wardens when Duncan invoked The Rite of Conscription that saved her from the Mage’s Prison at Aeonar.”

“You dare to accuse me of being a blood mage simply because I helped Jowan escape the tyranny of The Circle?” Parean felt her anger and resentment being pushed past the breaking point. At that moment, she desired nothing more than to be done with Wynne for good. Deep in the recesses of her mind, a faint voice called to her, encouraging her to act on her desire. The depth of her scowl equaled the malevolence in her voice, “You go too far Wynne.” Her finger traced the curve of her amulet. “Were I not in control of my emotions, you would be nothing but a pile of ash.”

Wynne sighed as she stared at the brilliant white light emanating from Parean’s amulet. “The very fact that you have obtained another enchanted amulet proves that you are still too weak to control your power on your own.” She reached out to Anora, pleading for her to listen, “You must send her away. Please, your highness, for your own safety. Once she is gone, I will examine you and correct whatever it is she has done.”

“I have had quite enough of your prattle Wynne,” Cailan unexpectedly interjected. Turning to face the door, he barked, “Guards!” In an instant, two guards rushed into the room. Gesturing toward Wynne, Cailan issued his orders, “You will escort the Senior Enchanter to her chambers. She is to remain there until a missive for the First Enchanter is prepared. You will then deliver her and the missive to the First Enchanter personally. Understood?”

With a quick one-armed salute, both guards answered in unison, “Yes, Sire!” Each guard took hold of Wynne’s arms and led her from the room.

“Goodbye Wynne!” Parean called out to her with a grin, “So nice to see you again! Say hello to Muirne, Eira and Thadan for me!”

Cailan turned and placed an arm around Anora’s waist, “I will prepare a missive to First Enchanter Irving describing what has occurred and requesting a suitable replacement.”

“Begging your pardon, Sire,” Parean quietly interposed, “First Enchanter Irving has stepped down. The missive should be directed to Acting First Enchanter Muirne.”

“Very well,” Cailan nodded in acknowledgment.

“Parean, I would have you attend to me until the replacement arrives,” Anora declared with finality.

Parean curtsied before the queen, “I would be honored, your majesty. If you will excuse me, I will take my leave and give the three of you some privacy.”

Cailan called for the guard who quickly appeared at the king’s command. “Please escort Mage Parean to the guest chambers. See that she is given whatever she may require.”

“As you command, Sire.” Bowing graciously to Parean, the guard gestured politely for her to follow, leaving Cailan, Anora and Loghain to their private celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Yes...I hate Wynne..._


	22. An Eventful Day in Denerim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Anora seeks to satisfy her curiosity about Loghain and Parean and Loghain is faced with a situation he hoped would never happen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I really don't know what got into Loghain and Parean in this chapter but the result was some suggestive moments..._
> 
> _Thanks go out to my son for allowing me to borrow one of his characters (Kristoph) from a story that he is writing..._

**Chapter 22 – An Eventful Day in Denerim**

“Your quarters, my lady.” The guard opened the door to the guest chamber and waited for her to enter. As Parean walked into the room he added, “Is there anything that you require?”

She turned and smiled warmly at the guard, “No, not right now. Thank you for your assistance.”

He returned her smile and nodded in appreciation, “You are welcome, my lady. If you find that you are in need of anything, you have but to ask. I will have one of the chambermaids attend you.” He bowed slightly, giving her a one-armed salute before returning to his duties.

Grateful to be alone for the first time in several weeks, Parean closed the door behind her and took in her surroundings. The room was elaborately decorated with intricately carved furnishings and every comfort one could possibly need. As she wandered around the room, her fingers slid delicately over the footboard of the large four-poster bed. A wash basin sat on the dressing table with a variety of grooming aids. A massive wardrobe stood next to the table. She opened the doors to find several blankets and pillows along with an assortment of nightclothes. Feeling the soft, lustrous material and tracing the lace embellishments with the tip of her finger she sighed softly, “Never have I seen such luxury.” Taking one of the floor length gowns, she undressed quickly and slipped it on, savoring the feel of the silky fabric against her skin. Tentatively, she stood in front of the floor length looking glass. The gown clung to every curve of her body, its turquoise color accentuating the blue in her eyes and the plunging neckline revealing her modest cleavage. She stared at her reflection in amazement. For the first time in her young life, she felt beautiful.

A soft rapping on the door jolted her back to reality. “Yes?” she called out.

“Pardon my intrusion, my lady,” the muffled voice replied, “I am a chambermaid sent to attend you.”

Parean crossed the room and opened the door. A young elven girl with long golden blonde hair stood on the other side, her dark green eyes cast downward. “Please, do come in,” she said gently with a sweep of her hand.

“Thank you, my lady.” The girl quickly entered and sheepishly looked up at Parean. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Parean shook her head slowly, “You do not need to serve me. I am quite accustomed to doing things for myself.” She couldn’t help feeling a pang of sadness as Thadan’s angry words flashed in her mind, _‘Yes, compensated so much that they are forced to live in the putrid slums of the Alienage, barely able to feed and clothe their families. Pretty, benign words do not change the fact that the elves are slaves none the less.’_

The girl stared at her with a worrisome gaze. “Please, my lady,” her trembling voice was faint and panicked, “If I do not perform my duty, my mistress will punish me.” She bowed her head in obvious submission, “I will do whatever you ask of me.”

Parean’s heart went out to the young girl, “Well, you can tell me your name.” She was taken aback at the girl’s startled reaction, “What’s wrong?”

“No visitor has ever asked my name before,” she replied in awe, “It’s…Natira.”

“Natira…” Parean repeated thoughtfully, “what a lovely name.” She gave Natira a warm, friendly smile, “it suits you well.”

Natira’s face flushed as a slight smile touched her lips, “Thank you, my lady. You are too kind.”

“You’re very welcome,” Parean replied as she turned to close the door. “There is something you can do for me. Can you show me where I might take a bath? It would be wonderful to bathe in privacy for a change.”

“Of course, my lady.” Natira pointed at the door to the adjoining room. “There is a private bathing chamber through that door. I will go and fetch some hot water for your bath.”

“Thank you, Natira.” Parean smiled as she opened the chamber door. “And, please, call me Parean.”

“Oh, my lady, that would be…” Natira’s voice trailed off as Parean raised a hand to silence her.

Parean gently touched Natira’s arm, “How about when no one else is near then?”

A shy smile spread across Natira’s face, “As you wish…Parean.” She bowed slightly then left to perform her task, closing the door behind her.

Parean leisurely strolled over and sat on the sill of the picturesque bay window. The last rays of the setting sun streaked like fire across the blue-grey sky. With a careful turn of the ornate iron handle, she swung the heavy pane of glass outward and breathed in the warm evening air. She gazed down over the marketplace watching the merchants pack up their wares for the evening and listening to the cheerful voices of children saying their goodbyes to each other before running home for their evening meals. The calm serenity of the moment filled her with a quiet peace. Warmth spread through her body and her heart swelled as her mind drifted to thoughts of Loghain. _‘Oh, how I wish I could share this moment with him.’_ She smiled at the memory of his arms around her, the feel of his fingers in her hair and the touch of his lips to hers.

Completely absorbed in her own thoughts, she barely perceived the gentle tapping on the chamber door. “Come in, Natira,” she beckoned dreamily.

Natira entered the room followed by two chambermaids, each of them carrying buckets of hot water. “We will have your bath ready in a few moments, my lady.” The three women carried their burden carefully through the room and into the bathing chamber. When they reappeared several minutes later, the two helpers bowed slightly and quickly left the room as Natira began turning down the bed. “There are fresh towels on the stand next to the bath for you. Once I have finished preparing your bed, I will light the lanterns and start a fire before taking my leave. Is there anything else that you wish me to do for you?” She turned and looked at Parean expectantly.

“Would you be so kind as to bring me a tray in about an hour’s time? I’m famished.”

“Of course, my la…Parean.” Natira replied cheerfully. “That reminds me, the Warden Commander was asking after you. He wanted you to join him and the King and Queen for dinner.” Her eyes shot down to the floor, “I told him you were…indisposed at the moment. He didn’t seem very pleased with my answer. I hope that I did not speak out-of-turn.”

Parean smiled reassuringly, “Not at all, Natira. I would have declined the invitation as well.”

“After I finish here, I will go and prepare your meal.” Natira smiled as she bowed graciously toward Parean, “Enjoy your bath.”

“Thank you for everything,” Parean returned Natira’s smile as she walked into the bathing chamber and closed the door.

Parean reclined in the spacious stone bath, running her fingers through her freshly washed hair. She began to relax as the warm water surrounding her body soothed her aching muscles. _‘This is so much more pleasant than bathing in a frigid lake.’_ Whenever the water became tepid, her hands would glow with a red aura until wisps of steam once again rose from the bath. “Definitely one of the advantages to being a fire mage,” she chuckled softly. She lay there for what seemed like an eternity enjoying the silence and solitude, her mind completely devoid of thoughts. 

Eventually, and with great reluctance, she climbed out of the bath and dried herself off. Slipping back into the borrowed nightgown, she walked into the bed chamber and sat down at the dressing table. Raising her hand to her head, she made short work of drying her hair then carefully brushed out the tangles until it was smooth. With her grooming done, she walked to the bed, laying down and stretching contentedly as her body sank into the soft, comfortable feather mattress. Turning onto her side, she tried to fight the urge to sleep but soon found herself drifting off.

#############################

_She relishes the feel of his body lying next to hers. He drapes his arm over her, hugging her tightly, and his coarse chest hair brushes gently against the overly sensitive skin of her back. Her heart is pounding in her chest as his warm breath rhythmically caresses the exposed skin of her neck, giving rise to gooseflesh. She gasps softly and her body trembles when his hand gingerly glides down the bare flesh of her arm, slowly moving down her waist and over her hip._

_“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are,” he whispers to her, his lips lightly grazing her ear._

_“Not in the last several moments,” she murmurs playfully. Bringing his hand to her lips, she peppers each finger with soft kisses._

_Gently, he rolls her onto her back and stares into her eyes, “You are beautiful.”_

_His breath catches in his throat as she provocatively runs her fingers through his chest hair. Her nails gently scraping on his skin causes his body to shiver against her. He closes his eyes and moans softly when she reaches up and weaves her fingers through his unbraided hair._

_“The Fates truly smiled upon me the day they brought you into my life, my love,” she sighs breathlessly._

_Slowly opening his eyes, he stares at her captivatingly awkward smile. He lovingly strokes her cheek, “No, beloved,” he breathes in a deep, sensual tone. He brings his lips a hairsbreadth from hers, the depth of his love plainly visible in his expression, “I am the fortunate one.” He kisses her passionately and she wraps her arms around him, drawing him closer. He trails the tip of his tongue seductively down her throat. His hand eagerly explores her body while his mouth finds that one special spot on her neck. His heart races when she arches her back, the guttural moan that escapes her lips as she whispers “My love…” resounding in his ears._

#############################

Anora brushed Cailan’s arm as she gestured toward the door, “Would you give us a moment alone?”

Downing the remnants of wine left in his goblet, Cailan gave Anora a quick peck on the cheek, “Of course, love.” Making his way out of the room, he clapped Loghain on the back. “Don’t keep her up too long,” he chuckled, “she’s sleeping for two now.” He flashed a broad grin at Anora before closing the door behind him.

Anora’s curiosity over the brief exchange between Loghain and Parean begged to be sated. She stared at her father, considering how to begin. “It’s been quite an eventful day. I’m exceedingly grateful that Parean accompanied you here.”

“Yes,” Loghain nodded in agreement, “I’m pleased that things turned out better than I was expecting.”

“She is a charming young woman,” Anora remarked bluntly, scrutinizing his face to gauge his reaction.

Loghain kept his expression and tone as neutral as possible, “That she is. Surprising, given that she’s spent the majority of her life in The Tower.”

Loghain’s guarded expression was not lost on Anora. Determining that a more brazen approach was in order, she boldly prodded, “And rather lovely as well.” Her suspicions were confirmed when Loghain’s features hardened into his taciturn scowl.

Loghain raised a skeptical eyebrow at Anora’s mischievous grin, “I know that look, Anora. Out with it. Just what, exactly, are you implying?” he grumbled in annoyance.

“Nothing at all,” she replied with feigned innocence. “Except that it would seem she is quite taken with you.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he blatantly lied.

_‘You’ll have to do better than that if you wish to fool me, father,’_ she mused. The nonchalant and flippant tone of his voice only served to encourage her. “I would like to show her my appreciation somehow.” She gave Loghain a knowing glance, “Would you have a suggestion?”

“Your rose garden,” he offered without hesitation. “I spoke of it to her and she expressed a great interest in seeing it.” He felt wistful at the memory of their conversation by Lake Calenhad, “Show her the yellow roses. They are her favorite.”

“What a lovely idea, father. Thank you.” She smiled sweetly at him as she softly kissed his cheek, “I should take myself to bed, as should you. Perhaps you should look in on Parean before you retire.”

He looked at her with contrived irritation, “And why should I do that?” He stubbornly refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing that he had intended on going to Parean’s room.

She let out a frustrated sigh, “If for no other reason, it would be a kind gesture.”

He paused for a moment, pretending to think on it before answering, “I suppose it would be wise to ascertain her condition. She has not had sufficient time to recover from her injuries and I must know if she is fit, should the palace come under attack again.”

She smirked at his remark and quipped sarcastically, “Of course. Eminently practical as always.”

He smiled warmly at her and lightly cupped her chin, “You are insufferable at times.”

“Another trait I learned from you, father.” With an expression of smug satisfaction, she hugged him tightly before leaving to join Cailan in their bedchamber.

“Forgive me, my lord!” Natira gasped, nearly spilling the contents of her tray on Loghain. “I did not see you leaving the dining hall.”

“It’s quite all right, Natira.” He looked at her curiously, “Tell me, is that tray for Parean?”

Natira averted her eyes downward, nodding her head slowly, “Yes, my lord. She wished to take her meal in her chambers.”

He reached out and took the tray from Natira’s hands, “I will take it to her.”

Her eyes widened in shock, “But my lord, my mistress will be cross if I don’t perform my duty.”

“The matter is not open for discussion,” he stated flatly. “Return to your duties. If your mistress questions you, tell her to speak with me.”

“A-as you say, my lord.” She bowed slightly and hurried off.

He stood outside Parean’s room for several moments, unsure of what he would say to her. _‘Inquiring on how she fairs is a plausible enough reason for my presence.’_ His decision made, he gently knocked on the door. After hearing no indication of movement from within, he knocked again with slightly more force but still heard no sound from inside the room. Cautiously, he cracked open the door, “Parean?” he called out softly. A quiet shuffling sound drew his attention as he stepped into the room. 

She lay in the middle of the bed with her back to him, her slow steady breathing indicating to him that she was sleeping peacefully. He stood transfixed, admiring how her gown conformed to every inch of her body. His eyes traveled slowly down her back to the slight dip at her waistline and up to her full hips. _‘I am leering at her as though she were a piece of meat and I, a starving man.’_ Forcing himself to look away, he moved as quietly as possible to the table and set down the tray. He turned to leave but instead walked slowly to the edge of the bed. 

The fading light from the dimming lanterns softly illuminated the room and the flickering shadows from the fire danced over her sleeping form. His heart yearned for her; his body ached to feel her pressed against him once again. Giving in to his tumultuous emotions, he reached out and lightly grazed his hand down her arm. He stopped in an instant, his heart racing with a mixture of panic and excitement when she gasped and her body began to tremble. When he was certain that she was still asleep, he gently lifted his hand from her arm. The breath caught in his throat when she took his hand and raised it to her lips, planting soft kisses on his fingers. Carefully sliding his hand from hers, he took several steps back from the bed. She rolled onto her back; her expression was soft and tender as she mumbled incoherently. He stared at her, intoxicated at the sight of her rapidly beating heart pulsing in her throat. Her quickened breath caused the lace trimmings of her gown to slide alluringly over her supple breasts. Her hands grasped the coverlet as she arched her back, pressing her head into the pillow. 

“My love…” the words flowing freely from her lips in a deep, throaty moan.

The furious pounding of his own heart echoed in his ears and his blood surged through his body as his desire for her was set aflame. _‘I need to leave…now…before I lose what little control I have left.’_ Quietly closing the door behind him, he quickly glanced around to ensure that no one was nearby before hurrying down the hall, grateful that his own bedchamber was only a few yards away.

#############################

The warmth of the morning sun encompassed her as her eyelids slowly fluttered open. Natira was standing next to the bed, gently shaking her arm.

“Forgive me for waking you,” she whispered softly, “but the Queen has requested your presence in the courtyard after you’ve dressed and finished your morning meal.”

“Thank you, Natira,” Parean yawned, only half awake from the first truly restful sleep she’d experienced in several weeks. She rolled onto her side, leisurely stretching her muscles and watched as Natira set out a variety of pastries and meats. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled softly when Natira pushed aside the tray with her untouched evening meal.

“My lady?” she raised a puzzled eyebrow.

Parean looked at her, shamefaced, “You went to all the trouble of bringing a tray for me, at my request, and I didn’t eat any of it. I guess I was more tired than hungry.”

“No need to apologize, my lady.” Parean visibly relaxed at Natira’s sympathetic smile. “I was worried that you weren’t pleased with my offerings.” Taking a small, silver pitcher from her tray, she began to pour a purplish liquid into a tall glass. “Truth be told, it wasn’t me but the Warden Commander who brought your meal.”

“Loghain?” Parean raised up on her elbow and stared at Natira, “He was here? In my room last night?” Her heart leaped into her throat at the memory of her very intimate dream, _‘Sweet Andraste, I hope I didn’t do anything…embarrassing…in my sleep.’_

“Yes, my lady,” she casually replied. “He was rather insistent on it.” Natira stacked the trays together as she prepared to leave, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Wha…?” Shaken from her reverie, Parean jumped slightly and her skin flushed, “No, Natira, thank you.” She swung her legs over to sit on the edge of the bed, “Wait, there is one thing,” she called out distractedly, “Would you please tell the Queen that I will be down shortly?”

“Of course,” Natira nodded and left Parean to her thoughts.

#############################

Parean uttered a rushed, “Thank you!” to the guard at the palace door as she hurried down the stairs to the courtyard. Shielding her eyes from the glare of the mid-morning sun, she searched for any sign of Anora. She caught sight of a guard on the far side of the palace motioning for her to follow. He led her through an opening in the towering wall of leafy green foliage that surrounded a fair portion of the side yard.

Anora was seated on the edge of a small stone fountain, thoroughly engrossed in her book. One of her guards leaned down and whispered to her, pointing in Parean’s direction. Placing a length of ribbon between the pages, she closed the book and handed it to the guard. “Good morning, Parean,” she called out, rising to greet her.

“Good morning, your majesty,” Parean smiled with a slight bow. “I see you’re feeling well enough to come outside.”

“Other than some mild nausea I am well, thank you,” she replied matter-of-factly.

Anora’s cool and reticent demeanor amused Parean, _‘Her manner in public is vastly different than in private.’_ Chuckling softly, she mused, _‘So much like her father.’_

“Come, I have something to show you.” Anora’s authoritative tone left no doubt that Parean was to follow without question. She turned and walked toward the far end of the side yard, coming to a halt in front of a large glass building. “Captain, you will remain here. I would speak to my healer in private,” she ordered with a stern look.

“As you command, your majesty.” The guard captain gave her a one-armed salute then issued his own orders to his men.

Parean stared curiously at the structure, attempting to determine what it contained. The panes were covered in a thick haze and a smattering of water droplets trickled down the inside of the glass.

Anora opened the door, assaulting them both with a blast of uncomfortably hot air. “Quickly, before all of the heat escapes,” she said, ushering Parean inside.

Parean was immediately drenched in sweat as she stepped into the building. The humid air was stifling and heavy making it difficult to breathe. Her discomfort was forgotten as she stared at the multitude of potted plants in varying stages of growth that filled the room. One in particular caught her attention, its pink petals barely visible through the green, leafy covering that surrounded the bud. “Roses…” she breathed, looking around the room, “they’re all roses?”

Anora smiled softly, “Yes, this is where we grow the seedlings…”

Anora’s explanation of the process of nurturing the young plants was completely lost on Parean. Her attention was focused on the delicate pink bud in front of her. Leaning forward, she sniffed at the bud, disappointed that it held no scent. Startled when Anora touched her shoulder, she bumped the table and nearly toppled several pots.

“Follow me,” Anora said gently, “this way.” She led Parean through the room to the double doors on the opposite side. Pausing to retrieve a pair of gloves and shears, she opened the doors and gestured to Parean with a wave of her hand, “After you.”

Parean stood silently awestruck for several moments, gazing at row after row of roses in every color imaginable. Rose vines covered the wooden lattices and archways surrounding a garden full of immaculately trimmed rose bushes. The air was thick with their scent and she breathed in their aroma deeply. “It’s so…beautiful,” she whispered, “Thank you, your majesty, for graciously sharing this with me.”

“You’re welcome,” Anora’s voice was filled with pride, “I rarely get the opportunity to show off my garden. I have given orders to the guards that you are permitted in the garden at you leisure.”

Parean drifted over to the first row of bushes, the soft white petals tipped with the barest hint of pink were in full bloom. “I had hoped for an occasion see it,” she muttered absentmindedly.

“I know,” Anora chuckled with a sly grin, “Bringing you here was my father’s suggestion.” She carefully studied Parean’s reaction and it warmed her heart to see her expression soften at the mention of Loghain. _‘So, you do harbor feelings for him as well. The question remains whether you are worthy of my father’s affection.’_ Her grin broadened as she beckoned Parean to follow, “He wanted me to show you something in particular.” 

Parean’s mind whirled, trying to take in everything around her. She followed behind Anora, stealing fleeting glances at the various colors and shades of the roses as they passed. She very nearly ran into Anora when she stopped abruptly at the end of a row of orange roses.

Anora turned and, smiling warmly, pointed off to another side yard, “He said they are your favorite.”

Parean’s eyes widen in shock as she rounded the corner and found herself surrounded by yellow roses. Her mind was agog at the sight and she stood frozen in disbelief. “Never in my life did I believe…” she stammered. Willing her body to move, she reached out and gently cupped a delicate yellow bud. “They are even more exquisite than I imagined,” her words falling softly from her lips. The realization striking her, she looked curiously at Anora, “That’s why he wanted you to show these to me? Because he remembered me saying they were my favorite?”

“Yes,” Anora affirmed with a slight nod, “he has a talent for surprising people with meaningful gestures.” The tender look in Parean’s eyes spoke to just how much this gesture meant to her. 

_‘He remembered…’_ Parean thought wistfully.

_‘You see,’_ her heart spoke softly, _‘you do mean something to him. Anora has all but told you of his feelings.’_

_‘He cares for me…’_ she sighed inwardly. _‘Dare I believe that it’s actually true?’_

_‘No, girl,’_ her mind harshly chided. _‘You read too much into it. One kind gesture and the ramblings of a drunken man do not equate to love. If he truly cares for you, why has he not spoken of that night? Why has there been no indication that he wishes to repeat it?’_

_‘Stop!’_ she retorted to her mind. _‘I will not hear your callous, negative thoughts! You will not take this moment from me!’_

“Did he tell you of the time he surprised my mother with roses?”

Anora’s question jarred Parean from her thoughts. “He spoke of your mother’s love for roses and that you brought clippings from her garden to Denerim,” she replied in confusion, “but never about giving her roses. Why would he bring her something that she already had in plentiful supply?”

Anora let out a mirthful snicker, “Because he killed hers.” She grinned at Parean’s shocked stare, “Not all of them and it certainly wasn’t intentional.” She gazed at the roses with a faraway stare, “My mother tended her garden personally. One time there was a bout of unseasonable weather which affected the roses. She was unable to reverse the damage it caused and sought my father’s help on the matter.”

“Because he was farmer in his youth,” Parean interjected.

“Yes, she thought he may have some insight as to what could be done. When he touched one of the blooms, the roses shed their leaves like a dog with mange.” Anora’s smile widened at the memory, “I found it quite humorous. Naturally, my mother did not and forbade him from coming anywhere near her garden again. Shortly thereafter, he made a journey to Denerim. Upon his return my mother found him standing by her garden, his arms overflowing with rose vines. The thorns were tearing him bloody but he refused to allow anyone to take them until he could present them to her.” She stared at Parean with a stern look of protectiveness in her eyes, “My father can be incredibly stubborn and frustrating at times, but he is far from common.”

Parean’s expression warmed into one of deep affection, “I know. I have, on rare occasion, seen the gentler side of him.” She sighed softly, the tone of her voice matching the longing in her words, “Sometimes I wish that others could see him as I do; a warm, jovial, and compassionate man that hides behind the taciturn scowl of a cold, heartless bastard.”

_‘Now I understand why you care for her, father. She sees past your legend and loves you for the man you truly are.’_ Anora’s expression relaxed and she looked at Parean in appreciation, “It is a rare person who can see through his façade.” She cocked a knowing eyebrow as a sarcastic smirk spread across her lips.

The look of almost smug satisfaction on Anora’s face made Parean feel ill-at-ease with the direction the conversation had taken. _‘I am revealing too much,’_ she silently warned herself. _‘Why must I always be so open with my feelings? One would think that, after spending so much time with Loghain, I would have learned to sufficiently mask them.’_ She tried to appear casual as she quickly changed the subject, “If I might ask, where is Loghain?”

“Cauthrien is apprising him of the current situation. Afterwards, I imagine he will review the soldiers and then begin work on his strategies for rebuilding our defenses and strengthening the army.” Anora’s pragmatic tone hid her amusement at Parean’s attempt to steer the conversation away from the topic at hand.

“Perhaps there will be time later this evening to speak with him about our journey to meet with the Dalish elves.” Parean returned her attention to the rose bushes. A tender smile lit her face as a thought came to her mind, “If you’ll excuse me, your majesty, I have an errand to run. Might I ask where I can find a silversmith?”

Anora looked at her curiously, “There is one in the marketplace, near Wade’s Emporium. If you are in need of a new weapon, the Royal Armory is open to you. If there is nothing there that will fit your needs, Wade is a master armorsmith and better suited than the silversmith to fashion anything you may require.”

Parean’s skin flushed with embarrassment, “Thank you, your majesty, for your generous offer. It is not a weapon but a magical charm that I require. One that I hope will aid us in our fight against the Blight.”

“I see,” Anora muttered suspiciously, “then you will want to visit The Wonders of Thedas as well. They carry a great number of magical items.”

“I will do that, and thank you again, your majesty.” Parean replied with a slight bow, “If you will excuse me.”

Anora raised a hand to stop her, “A moment, please, before you leave.” Sliding her hands into the gloves, she quickly snipped a yellow rose from the nearby bush. After removing the thorns, she held out the blossom to Parean, “A gift for you in appreciation for all you have done.”

Parean stared, wide-eyed, at the flower as she tentatively took it from Anora’s hand, “I…I am honored…” she rambled, her eyes welling with grateful tears, “you are too kind to me.” Her finger gently traced the soft petals and her mind flooded with images of her Fade World and Loghain’s perfect silverite yellow rose.

“Nonsense,” Anora replied firmly, “it is nothing more than you deserve.” She smiled warmly, “If I may?” Taking the flower from her hand, she carefully tucked it behind Parean’s ear. Anora removed a hairpin from one of her tightly wound buns and secured the stem to Parean’s hair. “Now you can carry it with you without fear of damaging it.”

“You are too gracious, your majesty.” she whispered quietly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I fear I must take my leave before I become a blubbering dolt. I will check on you upon my return.” Parean chuckled sarcastically, “I’m quite certain that Loghain will demand a report on your condition.”

Rolling her eyes, Anora let out an amused sigh, “I have no doubt. Until then, good day Parean.”

“And to you as well, your majesty.”

#############################

Peering out through the slight opening in the door, Parean glanced quickly back and forth down the hall. Finding it empty, she quietly slipped out of the room, turned and softly closed the door.

“My lady?”

Parean gasped sharply as she whirled around in surprise. Reflexively she lurched back, slamming herself against the door and banging her head against its hard wooden surface. “Maker’s Sake Natira!” Parean panted heavily as she clasped her hand over her pounding heart, “You nearly scared me to death!”

Natira’s eyes were clouded with regret, “Forgive me, my lady. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s all right,” Parean chuckled softly, raising her hand to rub the throbbing part of her head. “It serves me right for sneaking around that way.”

“If you are looking for the Warden Commander, he is in the practice yard with the soldiers.”

“What? Um…no, I wasn’t looking for him.” Parean stammered, nervously biting her lip. “Please…don’t tell Loghain that I was in his room.”

Natira’s expression lifted, the smallest hint of a smirk on her lips, “Of course not, my lady. Your secret is safe with me.”

Parean let out a frustrated groan, “Natira please, call me Parean. You’ve just caught me in a rather…awkward…situation. I think that merits a first name basis.”

“I…cannot…” she muttered, casting her eyes downward, “I’m sorry, my lady, but it is improper for a servant to address her betters in such a familiar way.”

“As you wish,” Parean sighed in resignation. “Would you be able to take me to the marketplace? I need to find the silversmith and The Wonders of Thedas.”

Natira nodded in agreement, “Yes, my lady.”

“Thank you,” Parean smiled appreciatively at her. She placed an arm around Natira shoulders and rushed her down the hall, “We must do this quickly, before Loghain notices that I’m gone.”

#############################

_‘A mage wandering the street with no Templars!’_

_‘She must be an apostate, yet the City Guards do nothing to stop her!’_

_‘Perhaps she is the warden mage that is said to accompany Teyrn Loghain?’_

_‘What does that matter? If she is, then she should remain in his company.’_

_‘You’re right. No mage is to be trusted, warden or no. This does not bode well.’_

Parean tried to ignore the harsh comments and suspicious glares of the townsfolk as Natira lead her through the marketplace toward The Wonders of Thedas. She motioned for Natira to wait outside then entered the shop alone. Almost an hour’s time had passed before she re-emerged, smiling excitedly as she tucked a small leather bag into her pouch. “Well, that’s done. Now, off to the silversmith.”

“Andraste’s flaming sword!” Parean cursed as she stormed out of the silversmith’s shop. She breathed a dejected sigh, “I don’t know why I was expecting anything different.”

Natira looked at her in confusion, “What happened, my lady?”

“He refused to take my commission. Apparently, the sovereigns of a mage are not welcome in his fine establishment,” she spat bitterly. Her shoulders slumped as she returned Natira’s look with an expression of dismay, “I imagine my plan was just a foolish notion after all.”

“Perhaps you can take your commission to Master Wade?”

Parean shook her head, “If that lout would not assist me, what chance do I have with a master craftsman?” Feeling completely defeated, she gestured for Natira to follow, “Come, we should return to the palace.”

Natira hesitated for a moment then grabbed Parean’s arm as she turned to leave, “Wait, I know of someone who can help you.”

“Really?” Parean’s gaze turned hopeful.

A hint of pride crept into her voice, “He is an artisan but is not accepted by the Silversmith’s Guild even though he does fine work. I’m sure he would welcome your commission,” her tone wavered slightly as she eyed Parean with suspicion, “if you don’t mind your item being crafted by an elf.”

Parean’s eyes softened, “Of course not, Natira.” She smiled and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Please, take me to him.”

Natira’s expression noticeably brightened as she nodded and lead Parean to the Alienage.

#############################

Parean’s meeting with the elven artisan had lifted her spirits considerably. As she and Natira leisurely climbed the palace steps, she could hardly contain her anxious excitement at setting her plan into motion.

The palace guard greeted her warmly as he opened the massive door, “Good evening, my lady.”

“And to you as well,” Parean smiled brightly.

As she approached the door, the guard stepped toward her, “A word of warning, my lady. General Loghain is in an unusually foul mood.”

His words stopped her where she stood and she turned to see Natira’s panic-stricken eyes staring back at her. In unison, they looked around them, only then noticing the soldiers lighting torches in the courtyard as the sky began to darken.

“I think he’s discovered your absence,” Natira whispered, struggling to keep her tone light-hearted.

An apprehensive energy coursed through Parean’s body. “I suddenly have an intense desire to take a room at The Gnawed Noble,” she quipped weakly. “No point in delaying the inevitable. The longer I wait, the worse his mood will become.” Taking in a deep breath, she steeled herself and entered the palace.

They walked into the main hall and were surprised to find it empty. Parean breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank Andraste he’s not here. If I hurry, perhaps I can avoid…” Her words were cut short when she saw a guard knock on the door to the study.

“General Loghain, Warden Parean has returned!” the guard shouted at the door.

“Or perhaps not.” She felt her nerves set on edge as Loghain flung open the door and stood staring at her. For a brief moment, she saw a look of relief in his expression before it hardened into his cold, stony mask.

“On me!” Loghain growled at the guard. His brisk strides covered the short distance between them in seconds, the guard dutifully following behind him. Crossing his arms tightly over his chest, he glared down at her in silence, the anger he felt at her disappearance subduing his relief that she was safe.

“Thank you for your assistance today, Natira.” Parean smiled stiffly, an unspoken _‘You should leave now before this gets worse,’_ look in her eyes.

Natira bowed her head, “You’re welcome, my lady.” She leaned toward Parean to whisper a quick, “Good luck,” before hurrying out of the room.

Parean flashed an innocent grin, “Hello, Loghain. How are you this evening?”

His demeanor did not waver, “As well as can be expected when one of my soldiers goes missing for several hours.”

“I wasn’t missing,” she replied, trying to remain calm, “Natira and I went to the marketplace. I told Anora where I was going. You could have simply asked her and spared yourself all this angst.” 

“Do you take me for a dolt?” he barked in irritation. “I spoke with Anora and sent guards to the marketplace. Your trail ended at the Alienage where you were observed entering but not leaving. The guards questioned the elves but, needless to say, they were less than forthcoming.”

“And that’s my fault?” Parean felt her own frustration beginning to grow, “We took the back roads from the Alienage to the palace.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, “ _The back roads?_ Have you no concept of how dangerous that is? Nothing but bands of murdering thieves roam that area. Even the City Guard is wary of patrolling there.”

Parean hissed through her teeth, “The citizenry made it quite clear to me that my presence was not wanted and I had no wish to continue listening to their snide comments. Natira simply showed me another way back.” She glared at Loghain in defiance, “I am perfectly capable of protecting myself.”

“I need to be aware of the location of those in my command at all times.” His eyes narrowed and his voice boomed with authority, “There will be no repeat of today’s ‘incident’. Am I clear?”

Bowing in a mock salute, her acerbic response was laced with sarcasm, “Yes, _Warden Commander!_ I shall confine myself to my chambers. I will have Natira inform you immediately each time I make use of the chamber pot.” She stared up at him, her eyes burning with indignation, “Rest assured that, in those times, you will be first and foremost on my mind.”

Loghain’s carriage straightened as his casually brushed her comment aside, “This is no time for your foolish quips, Parean.” He gestured to the guard who nodded and moved to stand beside Parean. “I have assigned Kristoph to be your guard while we remain in Denerim. You are not to leave the palace without him.”

Parean eyed Kristoph warily. He looked to be in his early 30’s with deep blue eyes and dark brown hair that rested gently on his shoulders.

“Warden, I pledge to protect you with my life.” His voice was soft-spoken and respectful as he raised his fist to his chest in salute.

All traces of anger melted away and her words held only sadness, “And again I find myself under constant supervision.” Her eyes fell to the floor, “Why not acquire a Templar from the Chantry? They are better suited to restraining mages.”

Loghain surmised that she would liken the situation to her time in The Tower but he saw no other alternative. _‘I am sorry, beloved, but I must do this to ensure your safety.’_ He attempted to keep his voice as neutral as possible, “Parean, there is no need for a Templar as this has nothing to do with you being a mage. He is neither here to restrain you nor to invade your privacy.” 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered softly. “It was not my intention to alarm you. I understand your concerns and I promise to use better judgment in the future.” Parean reached out and gently grasped his arm, slowly lifting her gaze to meet his, “Please…don’t do this to me.”

Loghain’s chest tightened as he stared at the pleading look in her eyes. Fighting back his overwhelming urge to take her in his arms and comfort her, he simply stated, “This is not a subject for debate. Kristoph will accompany you should you wish to leave the palace on your own and he will stand guard outside of your chambers at night. The reasoning for this is a subject I need to discuss with you in private. Come, follow me.” Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked back toward the study.

“Good evening, Warden. Send for me if you have need of my services.” Kristoph saluted her with a slight bow and returned to his post.

Once Parean had entered the study, Loghain dismissed the guard standing outside then closed and locked the door. “Parean,” he spoke softly, his back still to her, “I know that you are more than capable of protecting yourself.” He turned to face her, walking over to sit on the edge of the large wooden desk, “Kristoph is merely for added security, not to watch your every move and not because I don’t trust you.”

She moved closer to him, her expression filled with confusion, “Then why Loghain?” When he looked at her, the gravity in his eyes sent a cold chill down her spine.

“Cauthrien was able to capture the only surviving assassin from the attack, an elf by the name of Zevran.” Loghain chuckled under his breath, “Cauthrien described him as a ‘perverted oversexed churl who believed himself able to charm the small clothes off of any woman’. When that tactic failed, he opted to reveal what he knew of the Crows attacks in an effort to save his own skin.”

“So you know what happened?” 

“Not entirely, but he did know who the targets were and the name of the person who contracted them.” Loghain’s expression became deadly serious as he handed her a folded parchment, “He gave her this as proof claiming to have stolen it from their handler in Denerim.”

Parean opened the parchment and gasped at what she read:

> _Ignacio,_
> 
> _Here are the details for the Howe contract. Timing is crucial to success and you will be expected to coordinate the assassins accordingly._
> 
> _Targets:_  
>  Teyrn Bryce Cousland and family of Highever  
> Queen Anora Theirin of Denerim  
> Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir of Gwaren  
> Arl Eamon Guerrin of Redcliffe  
> Bann Teagan Guerrin of Rainesfere 
> 
> _Assassins:_  
>  Queen Anora – Zevran  
> Teyrn Loghain – Taliesin  
> Arl Eamon – Rinna  
> Bann Teagan – Nuncio  
> Cousland Family – Scout for suitable hirelings. Perhaps the Qunari at the Kadan-Fe encampment? 
> 
> _Impress upon Zevran that under no circumstances is King Cailan to be killed. Report to Arl Rendon Howe of Amaranthine when the contract is fulfilled._
> 
> _Claudio Valisti_

“Ignacio…” Parean breathed quietly, “He’s the one who bought Thadan from the Chasind. How is it that he can operate freely in Denerim?”

“He masquerades as a merchant, hiding in plain sight. He will be dealt with once this issue with the Crows is resolved.” Loghain stared at her intensely, “Now do you understand why I assigned Kristoph to protect you?”

Parean’s awkward smile touched her lips, “You’re worried that they may use me to get to you.”

“Yes,” he affirmed gently, “as long as you are with me, your life is in grave danger.” Loghain’s gut wrenched at the thought of the atrocities the Crows would do to her in an effort to draw him out. _‘That bastard Howe,’_ he grumbled inwardly, _‘There is no end to his hunger for power.’_

Parean laid her hand on his shoulder, “Zevran had no other information?”

Loghain shook his head solemnly, “No, he knew nothing of the reasoning behind the attacks, only saying that the Crows would continue to send assassins until either the contract was fulfilled or the contractor was dead. Cauthrien executed him since he was of no further use. In going through his meager belongings, she found some items of interest but wanted to authenticate them before…” 

A loud knock on the door interrupted Loghain mid-sentence. “General Loghain!” the guard’s muffled voice called out, “an urgent missive for you, ser!”

Loghain unlocked and opened the door, gruffly taking the missive from the guard. “Dismissed!” he bellowed as he closed and re-locked the door. With deft fingers, he quickly broke the seal on the parchment, “It’s a report from one of our scouting parties,” he muttered as he walked back toward the desk. He stopped mid-stride and read the report a second time, hoping that he had misread its contents. _‘No…there is no mistake…’_

Parean watched Loghain with growing apprehension as he stood, unmoving, clutching the now crumpled missive in his hand. His expression was a mixture of shock and disbelief as he stared blankly forward. “Loghain! What’s wrong?” When he didn’t respond, she rushed to his side and shook him furiously, “Loghain! Loghain! Tell me, what’s happened?”

Jarred back to some semblance of reality, Loghain slowly lowered his head to look at her. His heart ached at the look of concern on her face, _‘Beloved…it would seem that you are not the only one cursed to be the butt of the Maker’s cruel joke.’_ His eyes softened as he gazed into hers, “Parean…” he whispered breathlessly.

“Yes?” Parean’s voice was anxious as she waited for him to continue.

“Riordan…is dead.”


	23. Finding Solace Amidst The Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Loghain and Parean finally break their silence..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*sigh* I almost had to break out the tissues while writing this chapter...it was definitely a ride on the emotional roller coaster for me...my hope is that it is just as meaningful to you as well..._

**_Chapter 23 – Finding Solace Amidst The Chaos_ **

_“Now that you have survived your Joining, there are grave matters we must discuss.” Riordan motions for him to take the seat across the table._

_He slowly lowers himself in the chair keeping a watchful eye on the Senior Warden. He doesn’t trust the Orlesian bastard, Ferelden-born or no. The knowledge that he has no choice but to work with him is infuriating. “I must have information on the darkspawn and the Archdemon so that I can plan my strategies.”_

_“Yes, yes…we will come to that in a moment. First, there is something more important that you need to know.” Riordan stares at him as he considers how to begin._

_He glares at Riordan with suspicion, “Nothing is more important than defeating the Blight.”_

_“I know, but the possibility exists that neither you nor I will live long enough to see that day.” Riordan waves off his attempt to respond, “Becoming a Grey Warden is both an honor and a curse. The taint will ultimately overcome you. When it does, you will hear ‘The Calling’.”_

_“The Calling?” He raises a dubious eyebrow._

_“Grey Wardens can sense the darkspawn and see visions of the Archdemon in their dreams. You can learn to block the nightmares but there will come a time when they will return. When they do, you will hear the Archdemon’s song calling to you, drawing you to join it. That is what we refer to as ‘The Calling’; the time when we journey alone to the Deep Roads of Orzammar to die in one final battle with the darkspawn.” His expression is one of sympathy and regret, “Most wardens are considered fortunate if they live to see their 50th year.”_

_He stares at Riordan in disbelief, “So you’re saying that, due to my age, I may hear this ‘Calling’ at any time?”_

_“Yes…it is one of the main reasons that wardens are recruited at a young age.”_

#############################

Loghain groaned softly in his sleep as his head twisted to and fro in a futile attempt to free himself from the nightmare. News of Riordan’s death at the hands of the darkspawn rekindled the memory of their conversation in Redcliffe; a memory he had buried and hoped to forget.

#############################

_“The Archdemon is an empty soulless vessel but a Grey Warden is not. If the Archdemon were to be slain by anyone other than a warden, it would simply follow the taint to a nearby darkspawn and continue on. When slain by a warden, the Archdemon’s essence will enter the warden instead. The Archdemon is destroyed…and so is the Grey Warden.” Riordan’s eyes glaze over with an immense sadness._

_“The warden who kills the Archdemon…perishes?” He whispers breathlessly._

_Riordan nods his head solemnly, “Yes…it is the only way.”_

_He pauses for a moment then gives Riordan a determined look, “Then I will be the one to slay it.”_

_Riordan returns his stare, “As Senior Warden the final blow is mine as the taint will not spare me much longer. If I fail, then the duty falls to you.”_

_Redcliffe begins to fade away. He finds himself on the battlefield fighting his way through a flood of darkspawn as he moves toward the Archdemon. Parean is surrounded on all sides and he orders Alistair and Morrigan to assist her. As he nears the Archdemon, he sees Parean strike a mortal blow and it crashes to the ground, helpless. She gazes at him, her awkward smile lighting her countenance. Before he can reach her he is thrown to the ground, blindsided by a Hurlock Alpha. Alistair’s sword cleanly halves the offending darkspawn. Leaping up from the ground he turns to see that Parean has buried the blade-end of her staff into the Archdemon head._

#############################

“No…” Loghain quietly whimpered as his body madly tossed and turned in his bed. His mind tried to force his body to wake but to no avail.

#############################

_Her body shakes violently as she struggles in vain to remove her hands from her staff. His eyes meet hers and he sees in them a look of sheer terror. Suddenly she gasps and bellows an ear-piercing scream before collapsing to the ground. He rushes to her side and stares into her vacant, lifeless blue eyes. Ripping off his gauntlets, he tenderly strokes her cheek as blood trickles from her nose and ears. Gently, he sits her up and cradles her in his arms._

#############################

“ ** _NO!_** ” Loghain cried out as he bolted upright. His arms and legs were tangled in the bedcovers and his body was completely drenched in sweat. The thunderous pounding of his heart was punctuated by his quick, jagged gasps as his frantic mind struggled to get its bearings in the dimly lit room.

The guard stationed outside his chambers suddenly charged into the room. “General Loghain!” he shouted, his sword at the ready, “Are you all right?”

Loghain’s unfocused stare fell on the guard, “Yes, I’m fine.” Working to free his limbs from the bedcovers, he growled tersely, “Leave me.”

“As you say, ser!” The guard saluted with a bow and returned to his post.

Sliding to the opposite side of the bed, he slowly stood and walked across the room to retrieve the decanter of Golden Scythe that sat on the chest of drawers. Taking several long pulls of the potent liquid, he downed the swallows in rapid succession like a man dying of thirst. The fiery brew seared his throat forcing a violent coughing fit that sprayed alcohol into the air. When his coughing finally ceased, he roughly wiped the remnants from his chin and moved to sit behind his desk. He sat drinking the Golden Scythe for several minutes until, after a half hour’s time, he had drained the decanter. 

The room spun wildly around him and his body swayed back and forth in the chair. He stared at the empty decanter and his thoughts drifted to the last time he indulged in that particular alcohol. A tender smile spread across his lips as he remembered the feel of her hands sliding up his back, pressing her body against him and the taste of her tongue entwined with his during their all-too-brief impassioned kiss. “That night…at camp…” he whispered softly, his words slurred from the effects of the Golden Scythe, “you…were so...beautiful…”

“I _was_ beautiful?” a voice from across the room quietly teased, “Does that mean that you feel I am no longer?”

Loghain’s bleary eyes squinted toward the figure that stood near the door. “Parean…” he breathed gently. Using the desk for support he managed to stand upright. He gazed at her, a loving smile lighting his expression, “You are…beautiful. I’ve thought…as much…since we first…met…in Ostagar.” He staggered toward her, intent on sweeping her into his arms. Dizziness washed over him and, as his legs threatened to give way, he sat down on the end of the bed waiting for the moment to pass.

Parean stood in front of him, a playful look in her eyes, “I see you, yet again, have your ale spectacles on.” She let out a mock sigh, “Am I cursed to hear such compliments only when you are deep in the drink?”

His eyelids were growing heavy and he fought to keep them open as he gazed up at her, “I…love you…” his tone was filled with all of the feelings he had wanted to express for so long, “I want you…to be here…with me…Please…stay with me…where I know…you’ll…be safe.”

Her lips curled up into her awkward smile and her eyes softened with an unmistakable expression of her love for him, “Of course, my love. There is no other place that I wish to be.” She held out her arms to embrace him, “I will always be with you.”

Relief and happiness overwhelmed him, “Beloved…” He opened his arms to meet her embrace as she moved toward him. Reaching out to take her in his arms, his heart sank when her form vanished before his eyes. He sat unmoving for a moment, unsure of what had happened, “An illusion…” he sighed, “the…sodding liquor has…me…seeing things.” Blackness began to shroud his vision as he crawled into bed and was plunged into a fitful but dreamless sleep.

#############################

Ominous clouds hung heavy in the night sky as they sat in an awkward, tense silence finishing their evening meal. _‘Fitting that the night is gloomy given Loghain’s current state.’_ Parean watched him; his intense stare fixated on the flickering flames of the campfire. _‘He only looks that way when he’s mulling over something that concerns him greatly.’_ An image of his reaction to the scout’s missive last evening flashed in her mind. _‘Surely there’s more to it than just learning of Riordan’s death.’_

She gestured toward his mostly untouched food, “You’ve barely eaten your meal.” When he didn’t respond, she continued on, “Is there something wrong with it?” Still, he gave no reply. “Loghain,” she spoke in a firm tone, “You need to eat.” He gave her an annoyed sideways glance but, otherwise, remained stubbornly silent. Frustrated, she grunted softly, “Fine then…would you like me to take it away?”

“If you wish,” he mumbled tersely.

“Praise Andraste!” she sarcastically quipped, dramatically raising her hands to her heart, “Be still my beating heart! He speaks!”

Loghain turned to look at her, his expression completely unamused, “Very funny.”

“I was certain you had lost the ability to speak,” she chuckled, grinning at him playfully, “if it were so, then there would be no one to bark orders and…” Her teasing died on her lips as he returned his gaze to the fire. 

Shaking her head in resignation, she collected the dishes and set about cleaning them. With her task complete, she walked back to the fire, determined to find out what was troubling him. She sat down in front of him, forcing him to look at her, “Loghain, what’s wrong? Short of telling me that we were leaving for the Dalish camp and that you sent a missive to Alistair and Morrigan warning them about the assassins, you’ve barely spoken a word.”

“I know,” his tone softening somewhat, “I have a great deal on my mind.”

“Riordan’s death is disheartening to be sure, but I can’t imagine that it would upset you to this extent. It is no secret how you felt about him. Even he was aware of your distaste for him.” Her voice was filled with worry, “Does his death affect our ability to stop the Blight that greatly?”

“No,” he said gently. “While having four wardens was certainly to our advantage, we will still be able to defeat the Archdemon.” A hint of sadness crept into his expression, “His death…complicates the matter, but it can be done.”

“If it’s not Riordan’s death and its effect on our battle, then what has you in such a state?” She took his hand in hers and stroked it softly, her eyes holding his with a look of concern, “Please tell me. Perhaps I can help you.”

Loghain’s heart both swelled and ached at her tender touch. He wanted to tell her about his conversation with Riordan but he had promised the bastard that he would not reveal to Alistair or Parean how the Archdemon is slain until it had risen. _‘Damn wardens and their secrets. How can they justify keeping this secret from those who most need to know?’_ He smiled warmly at her, “Thank you but there is nothing you, nor I for that matter, can do. The situation will resolve itself in time.” Before she could respond, he stood up and dusted himself off, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some rest. Wake me in a few hours and I will take the watch.” With that, he turned and entered his tent.

#############################

_She stares up at him, her eyes welling with tears, “Loghain…you cannot…if you slay the Archdemon, you’ll die.”_

_He gazes into her clear blue eyes, “I must…it is my duty.” His expression openly reveals his true feelings, “And that is why I want to spend what time I have left showing you exactly how much I love you.”_

_Her eyes widen in shock and she hesitates for a moment. She suddenly rushes into his arms, her expression a mixture of love and sadness, “Loghain…” she breathes, her tears soaking into his tunic. “How am I to live without you?”_

_He holds her tightly against him, “Hush beloved. Do not think on it right now. Just know that I do love you…with all my heart.”_

_She looks up at him and tenderly strokes his cheek, “And I love you…to my very soul, my love.”_

_Her body melds against his and they come together in a passionate kiss. He feels the familiar shocks of electricity coursing through his body as her hands slide up to grasp his shoulders. He begins to caress the gentle curve of her back, pulling her closer. The breath catches in her throat and she moans loudly against his lips._

_He lifts his lips from hers and her head turns to the side. Gently he kisses the nape of her neck and whispers breathlessly in her ear, “Beloved…” his words cut short when her arms fall to her sides and her body grows cold. “Parean? Is something amiss?” Raising his head, he looks into her vacant, lifeless blue eyes. “Parean!” he yells in confusion, shaking her limp form roughly in an effort to wake her._

_“She is gone Loghain,” Alistair’s trembling voice murmurs solemnly from behind him. “She has done her duty and ended the Blight.”_

_He slowly turns to see the Archdemon, its head pierced by Parean’s staff. “Maker, no…” he whimpers softly, “the duty was mine…it is I, not you, who should be dead…” Overcome by grief, he falls to knees beside her. Tears flowing freely down his cheeks, he cradles her in his arms, “Forgive me, beloved…I…I wanted to protect you from this…and I failed.”_

_“Calm down Loghain, it’s only a dream.”_

_His eyes fly open as he reaches for his sword only to find it missing. “Who goes?” he bellows into the darkness. “Show yourself!”_

_“Who do you think I am?”_

_He breathes a sigh of relief as the figure steps from the shadows. “Maric…”_

_Maric grins at his old friend, “Who else? Don’t I always appear when your mind is troubled?”_

_He scowls at Maric, “What gives you the impression that my mind is troubled?”_

_Maric looks at him incredulously, “You’re right, of course. Nothing bothering you at all. My presence and the fact that you’ve had the same nightmare for two nights now are a complete coincidence.” His lips curl into a slight smirk, “Perhaps it’s something you ate?”_

_“Say what’s on your mind and be done with it, Maric.” He growls menacingly._

_Maric’s jovial tone darkens, his eyes hold a look of sympathy, “Loghain, you must resolve this issue. If you keep having this nightmare, your heart will give out long before the Archdemon, assassins or your Calling can take you.”_

_“There is no resolution,” he utters mournfully, “no way out of it. All I can do is attempt to keep her from killing it.”_

_Maric’s expression turns serious as he stares at him, “Unfortunately, you are correct. But there is another issue that you can resolve; one that may give you some comfort and end the nightmare. The one that is the true reason your mind is troubled.”_

_He raises a curious eyebrow, “And what issue would that be?”_

_“Whether you should tell her how you feel or continue on as you are.” Maric gently grasps his shoulder, “You have to know how much she cares for you. You cannot be that blind.”_

_He sighs dejectedly, “I know…but how can I do that to her? She already believes herself to be fodder for the Maker’s twisted sense of humor; that he revels in taking away any happiness she may obtain.”_

_“She is unsure of your feelings and doesn’t know whether you truly care for her or if your ‘confession’ in camp was merely the Golden Scythe speaking.” Maric levels him with an intense stare, “Is she happy now?”_

_He thinks on it for a moment, “No…perhaps you are right.”_

_Maric smiles warmly, “And what of you? Haven’t you earned the right to even a modicum of happiness in your life, however brief it may be?”_

_His carriage stiffens and his expression turns cold, “I have a duty to perform; to end the Blight and save Ferelden. My duty has always taken precedence over my personal desires.” His glares at Maric, “You, of all people, should know that,” resentment dripping from every word._

_“I know it has,” Maric’s eyes shroud with regret, “you gave up the woman you loved for duty once, but there is no reason for you to do it again.” His image begins to fade, “Loghain…the choice is yours.”_

#############################

Loghain’s eyes slowly blinked open and he examined his surroundings, unsure if he was truly awake or still trapped in his dream. Finding everything to be as it should, his mind contemplated Maric’s advice. A loud “ ** _crack_** ” in the distance drew his attention and he turned to see the shadows of the still burning campfire on his tent. 

Slipping into his breeches, he walked outside to find Parean sitting in front of the fire. “Good evening.”

Parean jumped in surprised, quickly grabbed her staff and bounded to her feet. Finding it was Loghain speaking to her, she placed her staff in its holder on her back and smiled warmly, “Good evening Loghain. You weren’t gone for very long. Were you able to get any sleep at all?”

“Some, though I wouldn’t say it was restful,” he muttered quietly.

She stared at him and her heart wept, _‘He looks so tired and distraught. Everyone expects so much of him. How long can one man carry such a heavy burden alone?’_ She stepped toward him, her arms aching to hold him close, “I’m worried about you.” She made no effort to hide the longing in her eyes, “Loghain, you don’t have to bear whatever is troubling you alone. Please…let me help you.”

He stood silent for a moment then his heart began to race as his decision was made. “It is kind of you say that but the matter concerns Alistair as well. We will discuss it when we have re-grouped.” He drew a long breath before continuing, “There is…another matter that I wish to discuss with you.”

“Of course,” she replied tentatively. Seeing the rigidity of his body and feeling the tension radiating from him set her nerves on edge.

His tone was cautious as his began, “We must settle things between us as to what happened that night…at camp.” He watched her intently, trying the gauge her reaction.

_‘Oh Sweet Andraste!’_ Her own body stiffened as the breath caught in her throat. 

_‘At last he is going to confirm that his actions were the result of the alcohol and nothing more,’_ her mind stated smugly.

_‘Parean, don’t jump to hasty conclusions. Give him a chance, hear him out then make your determination,’_ her heart countered softly.

Nervous energy flowed through her body and, unsure of what to do, she tried to lighten the mood, “Before you begin, might I ask if you’ve been drinking again?”

A slight smile spread across his lips, “No, not tonight,” he chuckled.

She smiled weakly at him, “So, no ale spectacles? No alcohol-induced stupor?”

_‘You were right, Maric. She is uncertain whether it was me or the alcohol speaking that night.’_ His tension eased slightly as he forced his body to relax, “None…I assure you that I am in my right mind and have full control of my faculties.”

“All right then,” she said softly, a nervous tremble in her voice, “please continue.”

He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, “That night…the things I said and did…I…”

“There’s no need to say anymore!” She suddenly burst out, “The alcohol combined with your uncertainty over Anora’s fate caused you to behave in that way.” Unable to face him any longer, she turned around, frantically wiping the tears from her eyes, “I understand that you didn’t mean any of it and I bear you no ill will.”

Moving to stand behind her, he gently clasped her arms. “Parean…” he whispered softly, turning her to face him. His feelings were visibly evident in his completely unguarded expression as he smiled and tenderly stroked her hair, “I meant every word…every action. You are beautiful to me and I do need you by my side. You are more to me that just a soldier.”

She gawked at him in wide-eyed disbelief, _‘Is this really happening?’_

He gazed lovingly into her eyes, reading the question that lay behind them. Gingerly, he cupped her cheek, “Only if you truly wish it.”

She quivered at his touch and her heart threatened to burst from her chest. Hugging her cheek against his hand she whispered, “I do,” her voice slightly trembling. She gazed deeply into his icy blue eyes, searching them for some sign to quell the growing uncertainty that clouded her thoughts. “Do you genuinely wish to be with me?” Self-doubt, borne from years of loneliness, torment and abuse, plagued her mind and spilled out into the forlorn expression openly displayed on her features.

Sadness swept over him at the thought of what she had endured in her young life. _‘She truly feels herself unworthy of love.’_ He vowed to spend what time he had left proving to her just how deserving she was.

He smiled broadly down at her, his fingers gently caressing her cheek, “Parean, to be with you has been my heart’s desire.” He ran his fingers through her hair before returning them to her face, tenderly tracing the line of her jaw. “When we discovered your body at Lake Calenhad, I thought you were lost to me and my heart was heavy. It was only then that I admitted to myself how I felt about you.” Gathering her into his embrace, he hugged her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her, “When you awoke, I felt as though The Fates had smiled upon me.” He reached up to cradle her face in his hands, “My only regret is that I lacked the courage to tell you then how I truly feel.”

She stared at him wistfully, “What would you have said?”

His eyes were soft and expressive; his words thick with emotion, “To have you in my life; to have you return even a small amount of the love I hold for you, would bring me joy beyond measure.”

She burst into tears, an exuberant smile radiating across her face. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she clung to him; the resonant sound of his rapidly beating heart ringing in her ears. He held her in his arms, rocking her soothingly. His cheek rested on her head as he softly stroked her hair. When her sobbing subsided, she sighed contentedly, “Loghain, you cannot know how I have longed to hear you say that.”

He drew back slightly, gently tilting her head back to face him, “Forgive me, beloved.”

Her heart was set afire. _‘He called me…beloved…’_ His endearment resounded through her mind; her body consumed by a fiery passion unlike any she had ever experienced. The world seemed to whirl around her and she felt his arms catch her as her legs gave way beneath her.

Regaining her composure, she raised a questioning eyebrow, “Forgive you for what?”

“For being a blind fool.” He breathed softly.

Her awkward smile lit her face and her fingers lightly brushed his cheek as she gazed into his eyes, “There is nothing to forgive, my love.”

He closed his eyes and savored the sensation of her fingertips sliding down his neck, coming to rest on his chest. A soft moan escaped his lips as she tenderly caressed his bare skin and tugged gently on his chest hair. Taking her head in his hands, he drew her into a soft kiss. As their kiss deepened, he placed a hand behind her head and the other around her waist, holding her tightly. His arms immediately loosened when she unexpectedly drew back with a gasp. “Parean, what is it? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you…you just…surprised me,” she stammered nervously.

He searched her eyes and saw in them what appeared to be a hint of fear, “Do you wish me to stop?”

Entwining her arms around his neck, her eyes softened and she smiled at him, “No, my love.” She pulled him into her embrace, weaving her fingers through his hair. The faint voice in her mind whispered to her and, caught up in her desire for him, her lips barely grazed his ear as she seductively breathed, “Possess me.”

His body shivered and he breathed in sharply at her touch. Sweeping her into his arms, he smiled down at her as he carried her to her tent. Gently setting her down, he asked hesitantly, “Are you certain that this is your desire?”

She gazed into his eyes, “Loghain, _you_ are what I desire.”

Resting his hands on her shoulders, he kissed her tenderly on the lips then pressed his cheek to hers. She moaned passionately when his tongue flicked her earlobe and he whispered, “I love you,” as his hands slid down her arms to her waist. He brushed his soft lips against her jaw, trailing kisses down to the nape of her neck as his hands drifted up her sides and the tips of his thumbs traced the curve of her breasts.

Her body suddenly stiffened and she whimpered a frightened, “No…please…don’t…”

Releasing her in an instant, he stared at her in confusion. Her body was shaking violently and her eyes brimmed with terror. Looking down, he noticed that her amulet was casting its brilliant white light and the realization struck him. “Parean,” he murmured, trying to keep his voice as soothing as possible, “I am not going to harm you. Do you wish me to leave?”

She stared up at him and saw the loving, gentle look in his eyes, _‘This is the man I love…he would never harm me.’_ Her expression softened and she wrapped her arms around him, “No, please don’t leave me. I want you here, lying next to me, holding me.”

Without a word, he laid down on her bedroll and extended his arms to her. He held her close as she laid her head on his chest. Slowly, her trembling body relaxed as he softly stroked her hair.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly, “I’m so sorry. I thought I could…I truly wish to be with you, to please you, it’s just…” her words trailed off as she began to sob.

“Hush beloved,” he breathed gently, “you will know when you are ready. Even if that day never comes, just knowing that I have your heart pleases me more than you will ever know.”

She sighed contentedly, her moist breath causing his chest hair to bristle with gooseflesh. “You always make me…feel so…safe…” her words began to slur as she drifted off to sleep, “I…love…you.”

Tenderly kissing her forehead, he murmured softly, “And I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hopefully, this chapter made all of the build up to reach this point worth it..._
> 
> _Just as a side note, Parean's "Possess me" line is from the most recent Loghain/Parean video that I made...it's posted on my youtube channel (conveniently titled "Possess Me") if you'd be interested in seeing it...my youtube profile name is sn0w0wl (the o's are zeroes)..._


	24. With The Patience Of A Saint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Parean's past comes back to haunt her and Loghain's patience is pushed to its limit..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Seriously...Loghain should get some saint award for putting up with Parean...lol_ **
> 
> **_I tried to shake things up a bit in this chapter, since I felt that Parean has been far too emotionally stable and Loghain was getting a bit too comfortable with his softer side...hopefully I didn't make him look like too much of an ass but, really, I believe it's exactly what Parean needed...if she doesn't start dealing with her issues, poor Loghain is going to have to carry around a bucket of very cold water...lol..._ **
> 
> **_I hope you enjoy their 'morning after' and, as always, comments are most welcome!_ **

**Chapter 24 – With The Patience Of A Saint**

Parean’s head tossed wildly on the pillow. Shaking and bathed in sweat, her soft whimpers were broken by an occasional unintelligible mumbling as her arms moved defensively in the air.

Loghain awoke with a start when something struck him on the back. Quickly turning over he saw her madly thrashing about, her face contorted with panic; trapped in the throes of a nightmare. “Parean,” he whispered gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Her eyelids flew open and her eyes darted around madly until they fell on his. She stared at him for a moment, her gaze glassy and distant. “Please, don’t…” she pleaded, her trembling voice sounding disjointed, “I will do whatever you say…anything you want…just…please…I beg you…please don’t hurt me anymore…”

Rising up on his arm, he shook her gently in an effort to wake her, keeping his voice soft and calming, “Parean…it’s all right, you are safe.”

She continued to stare at him with wide-eyed terror; her eyes slowly beginning to focus. Realizing that her nightmare had ended, her gaze softened and she wrapped her arms around him. The steady rhythmic beating of his heart echoed through her ears, easing her tension and filling her mind with a sense of calm.

Silently cradling her in his arms he felt her body gradually begin to relax. While his heart ached over her torment, he could not restrain a slight smile of guilty pleasure at how she clung to him as though he were her only salvation. Gently, he pressed his lips against her head, breathing in her intoxicatingly sweet aroma. His mind flooded with images of her and the desires he wished to fulfill. _‘Beloved, I want you to feel safe; to know that I would gladly give my life to see you protected. I want to see your beautifully awkward smile as you come to understand the depths of my love. Most importantly, I want to heal the scars of the past that have wounded you for so long. I wish to see you truly happy.’_ A slight gasp escaped his lips when she nuzzled her cheek against his chest. His smile widened as the warm breath from her sigh blew across his skin and her fingers lightly caressed his back.

“Thank you,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his chest with a tender kiss.

He loosened his hold and pulled away slightly in an effort to look down at her, “For what?”

Lifting her head from his chest, she set it to rest in the crook of his arm. She looked up to meet his gaze and her awkward smile lit her features, “For understanding my…hesitation last night…for being here with me when I awoke.” Darkness shrouded her expression and she quickly averted her eyes, “After my behavior last night…I…I expected to wake up alone.” The shame she felt was evident and her eyes shut tight against the memory, “I enticed you to…and then I…” Her voice trailed off as she fought back her tears, “I imagined that you would leave me. I would not have blamed you for it.” Opening her eyes, she saw his pained look of sympathy staring back at her. His expression only served to increase her feeling of self-loathing and she hurriedly turned away from him, “How can you even bear to look at me?”

Tenderly cupping her cheek, he returned her gaze to his, “Because it humbles me to look upon you.” He chuckled softly at her shocked expression, “I make no argument over the fact that I can be an utter arse. Everyone knows it; even you.”

She reached up to cradle his face in her hands, “You are not an arse…” Her words were cut off when he lightly pressed a finger against her lips. She kissed the tip of his finger then held his hand in hers and remained silent as he continued.

“Thank you for that,” the loving warmth in his smile spread across his face, “and that is precisely my point. It matters not to you that I am a complete arse or that everyone sees me as such; you still love me. With the merest look, you can strip away all my defenses and leave me bare. For a man such as myself, that is very humbling indeed, and yet…I welcome it. With you, I can truly be myself, not ‘General Loghain’, ‘Teyrn Loghain’ nor even ‘The Hero of River Dane’. I can simply be ‘Loghain’ because I know that you will still love me. You cannot fathom what that means to me; what you mean to me.”

She stared at him in stunned silence. When she finally spoke, her barely audible words came out in a dry, raspy whisper, “I…I don’t know what to say.” Once again, her awkward smile brightened her expression, “Those were the most beautiful, most romantic and heartwarming words I’ve ever heard.” A hint of uncertainty crept into her tone, “So…you do not hate me? You don’t harbor any resentment over my actions?”

The tips of his braids lightly brushed her cheeks as he leaned in close to her, “My Beloved Parean, with all my heart, I love you.” His fingers threaded themselves in her hair, brushing effortlessly through the long, golden blonde strands, “Till the day I draw my last breath, I want you at my side.”

Any trace of her doubt and uncertainty vanished with his words. All that remained was her undying adoration for the man that she loved more than life itself, “Loghain My Love,” she murmured, twirling one of his braids between her fingers, “with every part of my being, to the depths of my very soul, I love you.”

Staring into the eyes of the woman he loved, his heart was full to bursting, _‘It has been longer than I care to admit since I’ve felt this happy.’_

True to form, his mind dampened his spirit with the agonizing sting of reality. _‘Enjoy your time with her while you can; never forget the Archdemon awaits.’_

He sighed inwardly. _‘I dread her reaction when she learns of my duty to slay it.’_

_‘You are well aware of what her reaction will be, though it will not compare to the suffering she will endure once the deed is done. Fortunate for you that you will not be there to witness it,’_ his mind retorted sarcastically.

The thought of her mourning his death cut through his heart like a knife, _‘What was I thinking? How can I do this to…’_ His thoughts were interrupted when his head began lurching to the side. It was then he realized Parean was roughly tugging downward on his braid. “Ow…” he chuckled, “you are aware that it is attached to me?”

She grinned with a look of mock defiance, “Yes…well aware. If it hurts so much then perhaps you should stop resisting.”

Loghain smiled playfully in return, “Perhaps I should. Yes, I think that is an excellent idea.”

Her grin broadened into a wry smile and with one final, gentle tug on his braid she guided his lips to meet hers. Fire flooded through her; the desire she felt for him beginning to build. Sliding her hands down the bare skin of his back, his body trembled and he moaned softly against her lips. Slowly, he drew back and gazed down at her. She stared into his icy blue eyes, heavy with desire for her, and she felt excited, loved and…frightened.

The want he saw in her clear blue eyes was unmistakable, as were the traces of fear that clouded them. He forced himself to concentrate on bringing his spiraling emotions under control; a task that proved to be difficult when Parean hands moved from his back to his chest. “Parean…” he breathed in a low, husky voice, “we should…” His words caught in his throat; a jagged gasp escaping his lips and a tantalizing shiver ran through his body as her nails lightly grazed over his skin.

“Please don’t say that we should stop.” Though her tone was deep and guttural, she was unable to hide the slight tremor in her voice, “I want this…I want to be with you.”

“As do I,” he whispered, “but Parean…I see the fear in your eyes. You are not ready.”

A brief look of indecision splayed across her face. She flashed him a warm smile, “You are the man I love…I know that you would never harm me.”

His struggle to clear his mind and think rationally was abruptly ended by the touch of her lips on the rapidly pulsing flesh of his neck. His eyes slowly closed and he became lost in the sensations her kisses aroused in him. Giving himself over to his rising passion, he held her in his arms and kissed her deeply.

_‘Loghain…this is Loghain, not Alrik…he will not harm me…I can do this…I want to do this…’_ Parean repeated the mantra in her mind, over and over, trying to calm her growing anxiety. She forced her body to relax as he gently laid her back on the bedroll. His lips brushed the nape of her neck and her throat constricted in fear. Images flashed in her mind of Alrik’s teeth tearing into the tender flesh of her neck. 

From the recesses of her mind, the faint voice spoke seductively to her, _‘Do not fear him. He seeks only to give you pleasure. Give in to your desire; revel in it...let it consume you. Allow me to aid you in releasing your fears and exploring your deepest desires.’_

Her body began to move on its own as her head slowly turned to the side and her hand held Loghain’s lips firmly against her neck. His tongue teased her overly sensitive skin and she hissed sharply through her clenched teeth. The concern she held over the strange, unknown voice in her mind gave way to the rising fervor that was quickly devouring her sensibilities. The weight of his chest pressing down on her breast and the feel of his powerful hand tenderly stroking her stomach through her tunic ignited a torturous longing in her that was almost unbearable. Her body writhed against his and she arched her back as her loud raspy moan pierced the silence. The world around them faded into oblivion and she was aware of nothing but his touch and the intense passion he aroused in her. She yearned to give herself to him, craving the moment when he would claim her as his own. Her breath quickened; her heart pounded thunderously in her chest as his hand slowly slid up her body and he gently cupped the soft mound of her breast. Images of Alrik’s iron fisted hold on her breast, his teeth nearly shearing her nipple from her body raced through her mind and she was, once again, gripped by a paralyzing fear.

Loghain felt the sudden rigidity of Parean’s body and quickly released her. _‘Not again…’_ he groaned inwardly. Instantly regretting his thought, he gave himself a stern reminder, _‘I must be patient with her.’_ Resisting the impulse to sigh in frustration, he breathed in deeply in an effort to calm his conflicted emotions and dejectedly laid his head on the pillow next to her.

“Loghain, I…” were the only words she was able to utter before Loghain’s hand waved her off.

“Give me a moment before you continue,” he intoned as he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

Parean’s gut wrenched violently at the sharpness of his tone. She wanted to plead with him to forgive her but she feared that he would turn her away. With much hesitation, she turned to face him and her heart sank at the sight. His expression had returned to its normal stony mask, evidenced by the deep furrow of his brow and the familiar taciturn scowl that was etched on his lips as he lay next to her, unmoving, in deafening silence. _‘He is…angry with me…’_

_‘What did you imagine his reaction would be? He is a man who guards his feelings closely and yet he has opened himself to you and has been twice rejected in a matter of a few hours. How long do you believe you can taunt him before he casts you aside?’_ her mind bluntly criticized.

_‘I…I never…I did not reject him…’_

Her mind continued its merciless torment, _‘No, what you’ve done to him is a thousand times worse. You have likened him to ‘Ser Violeur’. Given his past, is it any wonder that he would be hurt by the comparison?’_

Horrified by the very idea, Parean’s blood ran cold as she came to realize that her mind was correct. The level of pain and sorrow she felt was only surpassed by the depth of her self-hatred for treating Loghain in such a despicable manner. _‘Sweet Andraste…I never meant to…I don’t see him that way at all…’_

_‘And somewhere, beyond The Fade, The Maker is greatly amused...’_ her mind quipped casually.

Loghain was jolted from his reverie when Parean hurriedly stood up and bolted from the tent. “Parean! Where are you going?” he called out to her retreating form. When she did not respond, he quickly rose and rushed after her. 

The sky was a deep ashen grey as the barest traces of the morning light reflected on the few remaining clouds. Once his eyes were accustomed to the scant light, he saw her kneeling on the ground a short distance away. Her face was buried in her hands, her body lurching harshly from the strength of her sobs. Crouching down, he reached out to embrace her only to see her hastily scramble out of his reach. “Parean, why did you run?”

She could not bring herself to look at him, _‘The disgust he must feel towards me is nothing compared to my own.’_ Her words faltered as she struggled to speak through her tears, “I…had to get…away…before I made things…worse…” 

He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “What is it that you believe you’ve done?”

_‘How can he ask that? How is it possible that he does not know?’_ she mused.

_‘Perhaps he wishes you to put your failings to words,’_ her mind retorted gleefully.

_‘No doubt you are correct. After my deplorable actions, he more than deserves the opportunity to watch me humiliate myself.’_

_‘Parean… you must not be so hard on yourself,’_ her heart countered sternly, _‘is it not possible he simply does not believe that you have caused any harm?’_

With a heavy sigh, she muttered softly, “What have I done? I’ve ruined everything; just as I always do.” Shaking her head slowly, she let out a low, morose snicker, “No wonder I am such excellent fodder for The Maker’s amusement…I make it far too simple for him.”

Though he understood the reasoning for her feelings and he had tried to be reassuring to her, he found that her constant self-depreciation was beginning to try his patience. “Maker’s Blood, Parean! I had never thought it possible but, at times, you can be more dramatic in your carrying-on than even Anora!” Attempting to lighten the mood, he grinned slyly and chuckled, “That is quite an accomplishment, given Anora’s flair for the dramatic.”

“Loghain, I heard the biting edge in your words; saw the hardness of your expression.” Her words hung heavy in the air, betraying the hurt she believed she had no right to feel. “You were…are…angry.”

Unable to suppress his irritation any longer, he threw his hands up in frustration, “Yes, Parean…I am angry,” he grumbled, “but not with you. My anger is focused on that sodding bastard who did this to you and the very fact that I cannot give him the sound thrashing he so rightly deserves.” He stared at her back as she knelt in the dirt, her arms lying listless in her lap. “I am sorry if my actions gave you the wrong impression.”

_‘You have managed to make him feel guilty for your actions. You truly are a masterful manipulator.’_

Parean’s head lulled backward in anguish, “Oh, Maker no!” she wailed. “Please, Loghain, do not apologize. You have done nothing to be sorry for.” She wrapped her arms around herself; her body curling up as though she were willing herself to disappear, “I am the guilty one.” Her grip began to tighten, burying her nails into the flesh of her arms, “How could I treat you in such a cruel and insensitive manner? How could I…” She swallowed hard against the growing lump in her throat. Her words spewed from her mouth filled with every bit of the revulsion she felt for herself, “You must think me a tease; no better than the harlots at The Pearl.”

His patience at its end, Loghain stormed over and roughly dragged her to her feet. “Enough of your bemoaning Parean! Your constant penchant for self-loathing serves no purpose!” She struggled in vain to free herself from his grasp and, seeing the fear in her eyes, his hands began to relax. A thought struck him, _‘She needs to learn that she can trust me. It is high time that I stop coddling her,’_ and he instead tightened his grip on her, holding her firmly in place. “Stop fighting against me and listen to what I am saying!”

Panic swelled inside her and her heart raced as she continued in her futile attempt to escape. _'I have pushed him beyond his limits. What is he going to do?’_ Knowing that she could not break his hold, her body relented and she waited for the inevitable.

He remained silent for several moments, gathering his thoughts. Keeping his tone neutral and flat, he broached the subject of her greatest fear, “You had a great atrocity committed against you. You did not seek to be brutalized and you have no reason to feel ashamed because of it.”

Shutting her eyes tight, she turned her head away from him, “Loghain…I…I had…feelings for him. I tried to hide them but…perhaps he found out. What if I lead him to believe…”

He shook her briskly, “No! You bear no fault in what happened. Even if he was aware of your attraction that gave him neither cause nor justification for his actions.” His voice sounded strained as he struggled to keep his own emotions under control, “He _forced_ himself upon you. What he did had nothing to do with love or affection. He was exerting his power over you because he knew that you could not defend yourself.” Pausing for a moment to allow her time to absorb his words, he continued with a simple, matter-of-fact question, “Parean, is it any wonder that you react as you do when placed in a similar situation?” Though she made no reply, he could see that she was mulling over in her mind the entirety of what he had said.

“I do trust you,” she spoke at last, her words coming out in a soft whimper. Her eyelids slowly opened and she cautiously looked into his hard, unreadable eyes, “You are nothing like him. You would never hurt me, I know that.”

“No, you don’t,” he stated bluntly. “I am fully aware that I will have to earn your trust. You need time to move past your fear and I am willing to wait.”

She felt a pang of guilt and tears began to trickle down her cheeks, “It is not right that you feel you should have to. How can you love someone that is so infuriating?” Her fearful expression returned at his exasperated sigh and the movement of his hand as he raised it to her. She winced and her body tensed in preparation for his strike. Much to her surprise and relief, he gingerly stroked her cheek, wiping away her tears.

“I am, by all accounts, the most infuriating man in all of Thedas,” he murmured gently. “I can recall several occasions where I have angered you. Did your love for me cease in those times?”

“No…never…” she choked weakly.

His fingers wrapped around her chin, turning her head to face him, “Open your eyes. Look at me.” Tentatively, she compiled and he smiled at her, “Why would you think it any different for me?”

Parean stared at him, studying his features closely. His gaze had softened; his icy blue eyes were wide and the moisture slowly gathering in them almost seemed to glisten in the last traces of the fading moonlight. She was struck speechless, unable to comprehend anything but the depth of emotion he was lavishing on her.

“Know this,” his rich, sultry baritone voice, deep and seductive, lilted through the air in a quiet whisper, “you have the uncanny ability to frustrate me beyond measure. Regardless, no matter how upset or angry I may be with you, I will _never_ stop loving you.” Pulling her close to him, he held her in his arms and stared deeply into her eyes, “Do you believe me?”

The intensity of his gaze and the sincerity in his words filled Parean with such a warmth that she feared she might faint. Her lips spread in her awkward smile as she tenderly traced the line of his jaw, “Yes,” she breathed, “I do.”

They came together in a kiss that was long and passionate. For a brief, fleeting moment the dangers that plagued them drifted away. The world around them disappeared, leaving them alone with nothing to come between them as they shared a tender, loving embrace.

The first rays of the morning light burst forth from the horizon. The warmth of the rising sun blanketed them drawing a heavy sigh from Parean. Knowing that their time was short before they must return to their duty, she loosened her hold on Loghain and held his gaze with a mournful look. “It’s morning.”

“It’s been morning for some time now,” he chuckled.

She raised a sarcastic eyebrow, “Well then, let me be more precise. It’s light out.”

With an overly exaggerated movement, he surveyed the sky above them, “So it is…I would never have noticed had you not informed me.” He bowed before her in mock gratitude, “Thank you ever so kindly, my lady.”

A smile beaming across her face, she curtsied in return, “You are most welcome, my lord. Though one would expect a master strategist, such as yourself, to be aware of everything around him. It is disconcerting indeed that you would miss something so blatantly obvious.”

Mischief dancing in his eyes, Loghain suddenly swept her up into his arms, “Perhaps it’s because I am distracted by a far more pleasing sight.”

Parean’s cheeks flushed crimson as she wrapped her arms around his neck, “You flatter me, Ser.” Taking his braid in her hand, she playfully tapped its tip against the end of his nose, “Your charming words can certainly sweep a lady off her feet.”

He laughed as he took in the sight of her form resting in his arms, “Quite literally it would seem.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before gently setting her back on her feet. “Well now, since it is morning, as you so _keenly_ observed, I suppose we should set about making our morning meal. You prepare the fire while I go and inspect the traps.”

Her body snapped to attention as she pressed her arm to her chest in salute, “Yes Ser, Warden Commander, Ser!” Quickly turning to set about her task, she did not see him shake his head with a smile before retrieving his bow and arrows and heading into the woods.

############################

Having eaten their fill, they sat in silence near the fire, Loghain’s arm around Parean’s waist and her head resting on his shoulder. Her dejected groan broke through the quiet moment, “I imagine that we should be on our way.”

“And why do you say that?” he asked curiously.

The confusion in her expression spoke volumes, “As much as I would like to remain here in your arms, we need to continue on to the Dalish camp.” She raised a questioning brow, “Normally, you would have already insisted that we move on as quickly as possible, since we have several hours ride ahead of us. I must admit that I am at a loss as to why you have not.”

“I am in no particular hurry to leave,” he replied casually. “According to the scouting reports I received before leaving Denerim, the Dalish are showing no signs of leaving. Therefore, they will be there whether we leave now or later.”

She was completely bewildered by his uncharacteristic nonchalance, “Who are you and what have you done with Loghain?”

A wry smile touched his lips, “What do you mean by that?” His expression turned puzzled when she raised her hands to his head, her blue healing aura glowing brightly. “What are you doing?”

“Hmmm…” she muttered thoughtfully, “I see no evidence of injury or fever. Still, there must be something wrong with you. Shirking your duty is very…‘un-Loghainlike’ behavior.”

Drawing in a deep breath, he growled with an aggravated shake of his head, “I have no intention of shirking my duty, Parean. I simply do not see any pressing need to leave at this moment. Is it so wrong of me to want to have you all to myself for a time?”

Her expression softened, “Is that an order, Warden Commander?”

“If it needs to be then, yes, it is my command.” He chuckled softly and pointed to his shoulder, “and now, Junior Warden, you will cease this insubordinate talk and resume your position.”

She smiled warmly at him and rested her head gently on his shoulder, “As you command, Ser.”

They sat together for some time, pleasantly chatting about various inconsequential matters before falling into a comfortable silence. He turned to look at her in surprise when she suddenly began to softly giggle, “Something amusing you?”

“I was remembering my conversation with Anora in the rose garden,” she grinned sweetly.

“Let me guess. She told you about how I ‘killed’ Celia’s roses?” he grumbled with an annoyed sigh.

“She said that they ‘shed their leaves like a dog with mange’.”

He chuckled under his breath, “As I said, Anora has a flair for the dramatic. Truth be told, those roses were beyond saving; a brisk wind could have just as easily blown the leaves off. I never was able to convince Anora, nor Celia for that matter, though.”

“But you did bring her new ones, didn’t you?”

“Yes…I did,” his mind recalled the memory and his eyes held a faraway look. “She was so heartbroken over the incident. I wanted her to be happy so I made a special trip to Denerim and bought several vines…pink ones…her favorite.” The corners of his lips turned up in a slight smile, “It was worth the pain of all those thorns just to see the look of joy on her face.”

“Mmmm…” she breathed with a dreamy sigh, “that is so sweet…so touching…” Her arms slid around his waist and she gave him a tight squeeze, “Anora was right about you; you do have a talent for surprising people with meaningful gestures.”

Laying his cheek against her head, he hugged her tightly, “Only for those who are special to me.”

She reached up and softly kissed his cheek, “And thank you for mine. Anora told me that it was your suggestion to show me the rose garden and that you specifically mentioned my love of yellow roses.”

He smiled down at her and kissed her gently on the forehead, “You are welcome, beloved.”

“That you even remembered means more to me that you can ever know.”

“I remembered because you are very special to me. Anora spoke to me of your reaction to the sight. My only regret is that I was not present to see your beautiful smile for myself.”

They spent the rest of the morning enjoying what they knew would be one of the rare occasions they would have to be alone. When the sun had reached its peak, marking the early afternoon, Loghain and Parean reluctantly began making preparation to leave. Once their few supplies are stowed, they made their way further into The Brecilian Forest in search of the Dalish camp.


	25. A Shaky Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Loghain and Parean meet with the elves..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_I finally found the time to finish this chapter! To those of you following my story, thank you so much for your patience! Just as a side note, even if I have long periods between postings, I will finish the story._   
>  **   
>  **_One of my elves uses quite a few elven words so I thought I'd post the meanings for you. Bear with me on this as I've taken the meanings from the wiki so I'm going on what they have there._ **
> 
> **_Shemlen_** – Derogatory term for humans  
>  ** _vhen’alas_** – term for land that the elves have claimed as their own  
>  ** _Elvhen_** – Elven name for their own race  
>  ** _Lethallan/Lethallin_** – similar to ‘cousin’ or ‘clansman’ (Lethallan for females, Lethallin for males)  
>  ** _Shemlen’alas_** – “Dirty humans”  
>  ** _Ma halam_** – “You are finished”  
>  ** _Ar tu na’lin emma mi_** – “I will see your blood on my blade”  
>  ** _Halam sahlin_** – “This ends now”  
>  ** _Ma nuvenin_** – “As you wish”  
>  ** _Abelas_** – an apology (“I’m sorry” or “Forgive me”)  
>  ** _Eluvian_** – ancient Elven mirror thought to have been used for telecommunication and/or travel between cities  
>  ** _Elgar’nan_** – the Elven God of Vengeance  
>  ** _Ghi’alas_** – “Dirty beasts”  
>  ** _Da’len_** – “child”  
>  ** _Dareth Shiral_** – “Safe journey”

**Chapter 25 – A Shaky Alliance**

“Stop where you are, shemlen! You go no further!” 

In unison, Loghain and Parean immediately brought their horses to a halt with a quick tug on their reins. With a loud whinny, Red lowered his massive head and laid his ears back in annoyance; the muscles in his powerful legs flexing and pulsing as he pawed the ground in anger. In a display of her own disapproval, Chance breathed a hearty snort, shaking her head roughly in an effort to free her reins from Parean’s grasp as she gnawed against her bit.

Loghain gave the young elven man standing before them an appraising glance. He imagined the boy to be a scout as his small frame was sleek and thin, affording him the ability to be extremely agile. The severe cut of his short, sandy brown hair accentuated the length of his pointed ears and his facial markings looked disfigured beneath the harshness of his scowl. There was an air of confident intelligence about him and Loghain detected a glimmer of veiled curiosity behind the stern look in his azure eyes. Just as he was about to speak, he heard another voice call out from the woods.

“You approach the vhen’alas of the Elvhen. If you wish to live, turn around and return from whence you came.”

Turning to identify the source of the voice, Loghain saw a young elven woman striding out of the woods, walking towards her companion. She stood at his side, holding a large, intricately carved bow in her hand as she retrieved an arrow from her quiver. Her straight, midnight black hair fell to her waist save for the front portion that sat just above her eyebrows. The deep purple facial markings etched into her sickeningly alabaster flesh only served to enhance the intensity of her striking periwinkle eyes. _‘There is a ferocity in her glare that would rival even my own.’_ Loghain’s eyes darted between the pair of elves, _‘I should be able to deal with the boy, but this girl…’_

“We mean you no harm and would speak with your leader.” Loghain’s commanding voice broke through the silence.

The young man made no attempt to mask the suspicion in his tone, “Who are you and what business have you with The Keeper?”

“We are Grey Wardens and our business with your Keeper is our own,” Loghain replied flatly.

“Grey Wardens…” the girl spat with malice, “Has your kind not plagued our clan enough?” Her disgusted glare raked over Loghain and Parean as she nocked her arrow, “Tamlen, we cannot allow them to pass. To do so would only inflame the Keeper’s grief.” Contempt permeated her expression as she drew the bowstring back to her cheek, “Better that we kill them now so as to prevent them from alerting their fellow shems to our presence.”

Parean sat silently at Loghain’s side, her hands gliding effortlessly in the air. The familiar purple haze of her shield spell flickered to life around them. “It is pointless to attack. Your arrows cannot reach us.”

“Slikia, stay your hand.” Tamlen placed a firm grasp on her wrist. “They have given us no cause to attack…as of yet.”

A look of genuine shock filled Slikia’s expression; her incredulous gaze boring into his eyes, “Have you taken leave of your senses? Can you so readily cast aside the actions of their clan member?”

Tamlen breathed a heavy sigh, “No…I cannot…but slaying innocent members of their clan would serve no purpose.”

Slikia’s eyes burned through him with a venomous rage, “Did you care so little for Vanna that you would deny her justice?!?”

“You dare?!?” His words spewed from his lips with contempt, “Vanna was my wife! My love for her is beyond your ability to comprehend…” Overcome with sadness, his voice trailed off as his eyes began to glisten with tears.

Unmoved by his emotional display, Slikia’s tone was cold and callous as she spat her reply, “And she was my sister. I cannot so easily forget the torment she endured in the hours before her spirit mercifully departed.” She shut her eyes tight; her face twisted into a painful grimace, “The images of her body thrashing uncontrollably…her beautiful face distorted and grotesque as she suffered in agony…the sound of her voice, once calm and gentle, becoming harsh and jagged from her screams as she pleaded for relief…the look of stark terror in her eyes. They are forever seared into my consciousness.” 

“As they are in mine,” Tamlen whispered with a long, solemn breath.

Her periwinkle eyes were hard and brimming with disgust as she glared first at Parean then at Loghain, “And their clansman, standing before The Keeper, bathed in his own arrogance and self-importance, so casually offering a cure but only if she agreed to his demands.” With a fierce twist of her arm, she wrenched her wrist free from Tamlen’s hand, “If you will not aid me then I will honor my sister and avenge her death on my own. It matters not that they are ‘innocent’. Vanna was innocent as well and if I cannot bring an end to her murderer, it is fitting that I take his clansmen instead.”

Tamlen stared at her, gesturing helplessly toward the Wardens with a quick sweep of his hand, “What would you have us do? Both are protected by a magical barrier.”

Slikia’s eyes narrowed and she flashed him a brief malevolent grin before pursing her lips and sending a short, high-pitched whistle into the air.

Red and Chance’s ears pricked up at the sound; their nervous shuffling accentuating the tension of the moment. Within seconds a bevy of arrows flew silently through the air, pummeling Parean’s shield from every direction. Both horses reared up, agitated and confused by the onslaught. Loghain’s expert horsemanship made it a simple matter for him to regain control over Red. Parean managed to remain seated as Chance bolted toward the forest, only to be thrown from her saddle when Chance abruptly stopped at the road’s edge.

“HOLD!” Slikia’s voice rang out and her hand shot into the air, stopping the barrage of arrows in an instant. With a wave of her hand, several elven archers crept from the forest onto the road, surrounding Loghain with their bows at the ready.

Momentarily dazed from the fall, Parean shook her head to clear her mind and quickly surveyed her situation. Apart from a few scrapes, she was largely uninjured. Her right foot remained firmly wedged in the stirrup and her right arm was entangled in Chance’s reins and the branches of a thorn bush. “Loghain,” she called out, keeping her voice calm and steady, “Are you alright?”

“I am…for the moment,” came his terse reply.

Unable to see him past Chance’s hindquarters, Parean gently nudged the horse to the side. Her heart leaped at the sight of Loghain sitting tall atop Red with sword and shield in hand; his piercing icy blue eyes hard as steel and his expression a mask of stone. In her struggle to control Chance, her shield spell had dissipated leaving Loghain vulnerable to attack from the archers that now surrounded him. With a few deft movements of her free hand, her shield rapidly reformed around Loghain. Her attention focused on Loghain, Parean hadn’t noticed Slikia’s approach. She gasped in surprise then turned her head and scowled as Slikia firmly gripped her wrist.

The archer nearest to Slikia called out, “The barrier around him returns. What shall we do, Lethallan?”

Slikia stared down at Parean and chuckled softly, “We kill the mage. When she dies, the barrier will fall and the swordsman will be defenseless.”

“Slikia! Stop this!” Tamlen bellowed as he rushed toward her.

“I shall put an end to your madness,” Parean’s calm, matter-of-fact tone sent a chill down Slikia’s spine.

Slamming Parean’s hand to the ground, Slikia pressed the end of her bow roughly against Parean’s palm, pinning it in place. “And how do you presume to do that without the use of your free hand?” she scoffed sarcastically.

“Do you truly believe that will stay my hand?” Parean smiled in amusement at Slikia’s shocked expression when flames from her fingers ignited the bow, reducing it to ashes.

Enraged, Slikia slammed her foot down on Parean’s wrist with a crushing force, grinding it against the ground as Parean winced in pain. “That was my sister’s bow!” Her eyes narrowed and a sinister, deathly growl slithered through her clenched teeth, “Shemlen’alas…Ma halam!”

Parean stared unflinching at the seething elf, “Attack me and I will freeze you solid and the arrow that Loghain currently has trained on you will shatter your body into pieces.” In an effort to emphasize her claim, Parean instantly froze the branches and reins holding her right hand and shattered them with one quick tug of her arm.

Unable to resist the urge, Slikia glanced over her shoulder to see Loghain leveling his bow and arrow toward her. She knew that the archers would be powerless to stop his attack so long as the barrier remained. _‘Even if they succeed in killing me, they will not escape with their lives.’_ Her thoughts were interrupted when Tamlen grabbed her arms from behind.

“It is over, Slikia.” His voice was soft and soothing as he tried to calm her dark mood. “Please, Lethallan. You go too far.” He had no time to react when she suddenly turned and threw him to the ground.

“You are _almost_ right, Lethallin. It _will soon_ be over…” she quietly grumbled, returning her gaze to Parean, “for her…or me.” Grasping the hilt of her sword, she paused for an instant before unsheathing it and pointing the tip directly at Parean’s heart.

Ice crystals began to form and swirl around Parean’s hand, “If that is what you wish, then let us find out which is faster; your blade or my magic.”

 _‘Ar tu na’lin emma mi,’_ Slikia mused silently. Her body tensed and she screamed in a bloodcurdling tone, ** _“Halam sahlin!”_** She moved to strike Parean but her attack was thwarted when Tamlen leaped on her, hurling them both to the ground. A streak of ice rushed past them, narrowly missing Tamlen and striking one of the archers squarely in the back.

Scrambling to her feet, Slikia stared at Tamlen for an instant. Her eyes were wild and filled with a maniacal rancor that bordered on insanity. “I will kill you for that!” She lunged toward him only to be sent staggering backward when his closed fist found its mark.

“Enough! This ends now!” Tamlen peered at her, unrepentant, as she rubbed her cheek; the skin already beginning to bruise from the force of his strike. “You are behaving as though you were a madman. You forget yourself.”

“Vanna deserves her vengeance so that she may find peace in The Beyond.” Her words carried more anguish than venom as she struggled to bring her emotions under control.

Tamlen’s visage exhibited his utter chagrin, “Vengeance for Vanna, or for yourself? While I share your contempt for the shems, you know as well as I that Vanna would not want this. Your actions only bring dishonor to her memory and disgrace to our clan.”

Realizing the truth in his rebuke, Slikia slowly lowered her head, “Ma nuvenin, Lethallin.” With an authoritative tone, she called out to the archers surrounding Loghain, “Lower your arrows and disarm!” Though they were hesitant at first, the archers obeyed their leader’s command. 

“Thank you Lethallan.” Tamlen rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, “We shall leave it up to the Gods to decide if there is vengeance to be had.”

“If you’re quite finished with all this foolishness, I would thank you to take us to your Keeper,” Loghain intoned with biting sarcasm. 

“Of course,” Tamlen retorted, bowing in mock courtesy. “Give me a moment to aid your mage. Unless you prefer that her horse drags her through the forest?”

Loghain’s irritation with the elves had gone far beyond its peak, “Do as you will. The sooner our business is concluded with your Keeper, the sooner we can leave your charming company.”

Parean accepted Tamlen’s extended hand, grateful that she could finally right herself and remove her foot from Chance’s stirrup. “Thank you for your help,” she smiled warmly. “And please forgive Loghain’s callousness. He has little patience for interruptions in his duty.”

Tamlen smiled in return, “His reaction is understandable as this was a bit more than a mere interruption. I would also ask forgiveness for Slikia. She has always been quick to anger, but she has become even more ill-tempered since Vanna perished.”

“It would seem that we share something in common then,” Parean chuckled, “we both are cursed to deal with insufferable people.” Her smile faded as her jovial expression melted into one of sympathy, “I am sorry for the loss of your wife. Please tell me, who was this Warden that you spoke of and how is it that he caused her death?”

Tears began to well in Tamlen’s eyes as he fought to keep himself in control, “If you truly wish to know, you should speak of it with the Keeper.”

“Parean!” Loghain’s aggravation was plainly evident in his tone, “Mount your horse and let’s be done with this!”

When she turned to respond she noticed the archers attempting to move their frozen comrade. “No! Don’t touch him!”

“Yes…that would be unadvisable,” Loghain agreed with an amused smirk. “I am fairly certain that you would not be happy with the result.”

Parean hurried over to the frozen elf and bathed his body with heat. Freed from his icy prison, the elf dropped to the ground in a violently shivering heap.

“T-t-th-a-nk y-y-ou,” he stuttered through his fiercely chattering teeth.

Loghain stared at Parean; his eyes silently asking, _‘What do you think you’re doing?’_ as she began to unstrap the blanket from his saddle. She stared back at him and smiled sweetly with a silent, _‘Attending to him.’_

Completely ignoring Loghain’s annoyed sigh, she set about wrapping the blanket around the trembling elf. “He should suffer no ill-effects and this should help to warm him. I am a healer and, if you wish, I can examine him once we have reached your camp.”

Slikia roughly pushed Parean to the side, motioning for two of the archers to carry the fallen elf. “There will be no further need of your ‘aide’, Shem. We will attend to our clansman on our own.”

“As you say,” Parean replied flatly with a retreating bow. She trotted back across the road and, grasping the tattered remains of her reins, mounted Chance and returned to her place at Loghain’s side.

Tension permeated the air as they made their way to the Dalish camp. Tamlen and Slikia were in the lead and the remaining elves surrounded Loghain and Parean. Keenly aware that, should the need arise, there would be little room to escape without a fight, Loghain began to devise attack plans and escape routes in his mind. His thoughts were interrupted when Parean placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“Loghain,” she whispered, “we should speak with their Keeper about what happened with this Warden.”

“That is not our purpose for being here,” he replied quietly.

“Not at first, but now that we know about it…”

“No, Parean,” he interjected sternly, “our duty is to affirm the Elven treaty. Nothing more. Whatever happened with another Warden is none of our concern.”

“But if the possibility exists that there is another Warden…”

Loghain held up a hand to stop her, “Yes, if there is another Warden in Ferelden then it would to our benefit to locate him. It would also prove a fruitless task as you would, no doubt, reduce him to ashes the moment we found him.”

Parean’s face flushed a bright crimson at his comment. She was indignant that he would believe her capable of such an act and shameful at the realization that he was right. “If their claim is truthful, he needs to be punished for his crime.”

Loghain’s expression was hard and he spoke with finality, “That is not our judgment to make and I will not discuss it further. When we meet with The Keeper, you will not speak of it. The matter is settled. Understood?”

Anger flashed in her eyes as she stiffly nodded, “Understood, Ser.” She turned away from him, muttering under her breath, _‘You can be such a sodding stubborn and infuriating bastard at times.’_

“Yes…yes I can,” Loghain remarked quietly with a self-satisfied chuckle. “And yet you still love me. What would you imagine that says about you?”

The corners of Parean’s mouth twitched with a sarcastic smirk, “That I take great pleasure in tormenting myself over my fondness for a dashing rogue.”

“So it would seem.” His stony expression held the barest hint of a smile and his eyes flashed with a brief glimmer of his affection, “And I am eternally grateful for it.”

His tone was flat and devoid of emotion and yet her heart melted with his words. The familiar rush of warmth flowed through her body banishing all traces of anger. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to wrap her arms around him. _‘Those moments are best indulged in privacy,’_ she mused and instead simply smiled up at him, her eyes whispering a silent _‘As am I, my love.’_

#############################

The devastation surrounding them was overwhelming. The fetid stench of death blanketed the air and the soil was stained a deep crimson. Grotesque mounds of putrid flesh intermingled with long, stringy bits of entrails lay rotting in pools of coagulated blood. Mutilated and broken bodies of men, women and children were strewn throughout the Dalish camp. Many of the bodies were so disfigured that it was impossible to determine whether they were human or elven.

Several of the able-bodied elves gathered up their fallen brethren and placed them side by side at the edge of the clearing in preparation for burial. Parean stared at the horrific sight before her eyes. She noticed that even Loghain seemed somewhat taken aback by the sight, though his reaction was barely perceptible to the others. “Blessed Andraste,” she gasped in shocked disbelief, “what could have caused all of this?”

“Werewolves…”

Loghain and Parean turned and leveled a questioning stare toward the source of the revelation; an elven woman of advanced age with shoulder-length silver hair and soft, mournful grey eyes. It was apparent that she was a person of some importance as the elves accepted her judgment on the matter without question.

A loud grunt bursting from his throat, Loghain scoffed mockingly at her comment, “Harumph! You can’t be serious…Werewolves? Such things only exist in the realm of legends and fairy stories.”

“And such was my belief as well, until my clan arrived to find…this.” Her hand swept back, once again drawing their attention to the disquieting state of the camp.

“You came upon this?” Parean muttered in confusion, “So these elves are not part of your clan?”

“No, they are not. This camp belongs…belonged… to Keeper Zathrian and his clan.” The woman briefly closed her eyes and gave them a slight bow, “Forgive me…I am Keeper Marethari. We were making our way to the Free Marches, fleeing from the Darkspawn. One of our scouts happened upon a wounded hunter from Zathrian’s camp. Before his spirit departed, he spoke of the werewolf attacks. It was my hope to arrive in time to lend aid.”

Anxious to settle their duty with the elves, Loghain bowed stiffly in return, “I am Warden Commander Loghain Mac Tir and this is Junior Warden Parean Amell. Dealing with your fantasies of werewolves and the like is your own affair as we are here on a more pressing concern. I would speak with you about the Elven Treaty and the coming Blight.”

The callousness in his tone caused Marethari to stare at Loghain with cautious suspicion, “You are Warden Commander? It is my understanding that Duncan leads the Grey Wardens in Ferelden.”

Loghain’s hard eyes glared at the Keeper with equal suspicion, “And how is it that you know of…”

“He is the murdering shemlen that killed Vanna,” Slikia interjected with a low, threatening growl. She recoiled in submission at Marethari’s disapproving glance, “Abelas Keeper. I have spoken out-of-turn.”

Parean’s wide-eyed gaze shifted between Slikia and Marethari before finally coming to rest on Loghain. “That’s…that’s not possible. Duncan had a kind heart and gentle soul. He would not so blithely murder someone without provocation.”

“Do you dare suggest that my sister’s illness provoked him to cause her death?” Slikia’s anger began to rise at the mere implication that her sister had been at fault. Tamlen reached out to calm her but she quickly brushed his hand aside.

Marethari held up a hand to silence Slikia. “Duncan found Vanna unconscious near an Eluvian; an ancient Elven artifact. Apparently she had been exploring a cave and stumbled upon it. He destroyed the Eluvian as it was tainted by the Darkspawn but Vanna was already stricken. He brought her back to our camp, stating that he had the ability to heal her but his aid came at a price. She was to accompany him to Ostagar and she would never be able to return to us. Though he would neither reveal how he would accomplish this nor why it was that she could not return, he was adamant that without his intervention, she would most certainly perish. Without an understanding of his motivations, I could not risk her well-being by agreeing to his conditions.”

Parean focused her attention on Slikia, reaching out a hand to comfort her, “If that is so then your hatred of Duncan is misplaced. It was not he who caused Vanna’s death, but the Darkspawn taint.”

Slikia roughly slapped Parean’s hand away, “His demands were not met and, as a result, he allowed her to perish. To the Elvhen, such actions are no different that if he had ended her life with his own hands.”

“None of this is relevant to our purpose.” Loghain’s exasperated tone did nothing to ease the tension of the moment. “Duncan was killed at Ostagar while protecting King Cailan and I am now Commander of the Grey. Whatever events transpired between you and Duncan is not my concern. We are here solely to affirm your obligation to aid in our fight against the Blight as agreed upon in the Elven Treaty.”

“Praise be to Elgar’nan!” Slikia shouted in triumphant glee, “He has granted Vanna her vengeance and slain the murderous shemlen.” Lowering her head in solemn reverence, she touched her steepled fingers to her lips, “Now, sister, you can be at peace in The Beyond.”

Loghain tried to control his mounting frustration with the elves and their insistence in deviating from the matter at hand. “We have other matters to attend to and I have neither the time nor the desire to indulge your bemoaning any longer. I ask one last time, will you abide by the treaty and join our fight or do we leave you to fend for yourselves?”

“Or you can leave the elves to us and gain our support.”

The werewolf led his pack into the clearing. Their hunched bodies were massive in size with long, muscular arms bearing razor sharp claws. Some were poised to attack, their muzzles, moist from their salivation, were drawn back in fierce snarls that accentuated their jagged yellow fangs.

Slikia drew her sword as her archers readied their bows, “Ghi’alas! At least you have spared me the trouble of hunting you down!”

With a quick gesture to his pack, the werewolf’s deep throaty growl sent a chill into the air, “We will kill them all and put an end to our torment!”

A loud high-pitched howl gave the werewolves pause as a large silver wolf charged out of the forest. Within seconds the wolf transformed into beautiful woman with mossy green skin and lavender eyes that floated like islands in a sea of black. Her nakedness was partially covered by her chest-length black hair and the brown branches that wove their way around her legs and waist then down her arms, giving form to her hands.

“Swiftrunner, hold your anger. I wish to parley with the mortals.” The woman’s soft, melodic voice and gentle stroking of his fur visibly calmed the raging beast. “Greetings mortals, I am the Lady of the Forest.”

“I am Marethari, Keeper of the Sabrae Clan of Dalish Elves.” She motioned for the archers to lowers their bows, “Might I inquire who you are and why your werewolves attacked this clan?”

“You will not question the Lady!” Swiftrunner growled defensively.

“Be calm, Swiftrunner. Her request is appropriate, given the circumstances.” The Lady returned her focus to the Keeper, “I am the Spirit of the Forest, summoned centuries ago by Zathrian and bound to the body of the great wolf Witherfang. Humans had committed grave atrocities against Zathrian’s family and he sought to use Witherfang to seek his revenge. The fortunate ones died of their injuries; the rest were cursed with lycanthropy. They became savage beasts who continued to spread the curse to succeeding generations. I was able to convince Swiftrunner that there was more to him than his bestial nature and his humanity re-emerged.”

Marethari’s incredulous gaze drifted over the camp, “I find that difficult to believe. The brutality of what occurred here is anything but humane.”

Swiftrunner responded with a menacing snarl, “We sought him out to end the curse. He said that we remained nothing but savage beasts; that he would never end the curse.”

“And in ending his life, you sacrificed the only opportunity to lift the curse.” Marethari’s heavy sigh was laden with remorse, “Even if I wished to do so, I could not remove the curse. Sadly, only Zathrian had that power.”

The Lady’s expression fell into a vicious scowl, “Then it would seem that we have reached an impasse. Unless your human companions can offer some solution?”

Loghain assumed his “General’s Persona” in his stoic reply, “We are Grey Wardens and our only cause is defeating the Darkspawn. As such, we must remain neutral on any matters that do not serve that purpose. Our order was not established to rescue every kitten from a tree.”

“You see, My Lady, they will not help us. We will never be accepted by the humans. We must kill them; kill them all!” Swiftrunner lifted his head and howled in anger with his pack mates following suit.

“Yes…because wantonly killing people has done much to alleviate your suffering.” Loghain’s sarcastic mocking drew a ferocious growl from the already enraged werewolf.

The Lady’s harsh expression equaled the stern tone of her voice, “No, Swiftrunner. Killing them for no reason would make you no better than Zathrian.”

Swiftrunner accepted her chastisement, bowing his head and dropping to his knee, “Yes, My Lady.”

As much as he was loathed admit it, Loghain found himself wishing there was a skilled diplomat in attendance. Maric would often tease him mercilessly over his glaring lack of diplomacy. He tended to prefer a more direct approach. _‘One side is right and the other is wrong. Let them fight it out to determine which one is which.’_ Unfortunately, he did not possess the time for such a resolution to the current situation. Diplomacy was his only option. _‘Well Maric,’_ he mused inwardly, _‘let us hope that I’ve learned something about being diplomatic in my observations of you and Anora.’_

Throwing caution to the wind, he stepped toward the two factions, “This endless bantering benefits no one. As I see it, since the werewolves can no longer be freed of the curse, their acceptance into human society would be a satisfactory alternative. On the other hand, the elves wish to avoid being slaughtered where they stand. I would offer this compromise; that you both join our cause and work together to aid in defeating the Blight.”

Swiftrunner growled in defiance, “Such a compromise would only benefit the Wardens. After the Blight is ended, the elves will continue on with their pathetic lives but we will still be cursed. Where is the benefit to us? Why should we strike such a bargain?”

Loghain’s tone was frank and unwavering, “Because your petty squabbling will become meaningless as the Darkspawn disembowel you. If you assist in ending the Blight, your honor will be restored and you will be hailed as heroes. In exchange for their lives, the elves will search for an alternative means of lifting your curse and, if found, they will administer it without delay.”

Both sides remained quiet for several long moments. Unable to tolerate their indecision any longer, Loghain opted to include his normal brand of ‘diplomacy’, “Truthfully, it makes no difference to me what you decide. While it is to our advantage to have both of you as allies, I am perfectly willing to accept the aid of whoever remains standing in the end. Time’s wasting; what is your answer?” He suppressed an amused chuckle at the sound of Parean’s hand striking her forehead and he was certain that somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Maric loudly snickering.

The Lady was the first to respond, “Are you certain that they will be acknowledged for lending their support?”

“My lady,” Loghain began, trying to sound somewhat charming and sincere, “the Grey Wardens are held in high regard to a great many people. I assure you that, assuming we survive the battle, we shall sing their praises to whomever will stand still long enough to listen.”

“Then they will accept your compromise, provided that the elves will honor their part.” The Lady glanced over at Swiftrunner who reluctantly nodded his agreement.

Marethari bowed slightly to Loghain, “And we will agree as well.”

Incensed over the unexpected turn of events and unable to remain silent, Slikia approached Marethari and blurted out, “Keeper! How can you agree to this after what they’ve done?”

“I understand your feelings, Da’len,” Marethari spoke gently to her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, “but the Warden Commander is correct. We must work together to defeat our common enemy.”

Slikia muttered softly, “Ma nuvenin Keeper,” and returned to her place at Tamlen’s side.

“Then it is settled,” Loghain breathed a frustrated sigh of relief and stiffly bowed to Marethari and then to The Lady. “Now we shall take our leave.”

“The hour is growing late,” Marethari gestured to an area at the edge of the camp, “We would offer the both of you shelter until the morning.”

Loghain glanced toward the sky, already beginning to turn an ashen grey as the sun slowly made its descent toward the horizon. He surmised that they would have an acceptable amount of traveling time before completely losing the light and he did not wish to linger. “Thank you, no. We have much to accomplish and our time is growing short.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward Red.

Marethari nodded toward his retreating form, “As you wish. We will begin preparations. Send word when you are in need of us.” She looked at Parean with a warm smile, “Dareth Shiral, Grey Wardens.”

Parean smiled in return, crossing her arms over her chest with a slight bow, “And to you both as well. May the Spirits protect us all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_I know I made Duncan looks like kind of a jerk but I was approaching the Dalish Warden's origin from the perspective of the Dalish. If someone told you that they could heal someone you cared about but only if you agreed to their (in your opinion) outrageous conditions, then let them die because you didn't, wouldn't you think they were a jerk?_ **


	26. The Demands of Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Doing your duty can be a heavy burden and take a large toll on those you love..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Author's Note - First of all, I want to say a heartfelt "Thank You" to everyone who has stuck with my story though it's been a long time since the last post._ **
> 
> **_Second, just a reminder to all that it has always been my intention to have the characters, not The Blight or any other events that happen in the story, be the main focus of my story. As a result, the latter half of the chapter is devoted to a side story involving Kristoph, the soldier that Loghain assigned to guard Parean. I did this for a few reasons. 1. I felt the story was getting bogged down and needed a jump start. Seven chapters of "A day in the life of Loghain and Parean" was just getting to be too much. 2. As I wrote the conversation between Kristoph and Parean, he was begging me to delve a little into his life. 3. It's a nod to my son who is the original creator of Kristoph. He is working on an original story (not Dragon Age related) about Kristoph and the other characters related to him. The flashback scene and the dialogue with Lenard were written by him. I hope you'll indulge my small deviation from the normal but it was truly inspirational for me to write and my pleasure to collaborate with my son._ **
> 
> **_Lastly, the story does take a rather dark turn. I'm not aware of any triggers but, be warned, there may be for some of you. That said, I do hope you enjoy the latest installment of my little tale and please feel free to review._ **
> 
> **_And now...on with the show!_ **

**Chapter 26 – The Demands of Duty**

Red’s coat glistened with sweat in the light of the blazing campfire; his angry snorts piercing the silence that surrounded them. A large log was tethered to his saddle and, spent from carrying Loghain’s armor-clad body for the majority of the day, the weary animal’s displeasure with this new task was blatantly evident.

Parean stood in front of him, gently tugging on the reins, trying to encourage the annoyed horse to move. “Come on boy. It’s just a bit farther,” she cooed softly.

Loghain smacked Red’s hindquarters with a firm slap, “Move!”

Surprised by Loghain’s strike, Red jumped forward a few steps, his tired muscles straining under the weight of the log. Laying his ears back in irritation, Red let out a loud whinny and kicked his hind leg toward Loghain.

“That will be quite enough of that,” Loghain muttered as he moved to stand next to Parean. “We’ll be here all night if you insist on coddling him.”

“I’m not coddling him,” Parean protested, “but I don’t see what will come of being harsh with him.”

Loghain sighed heavily, “You do not have to be harsh…simply firm. You must make him understand who is master.”

Parean stared into the horse’s eyes and, giving the reins a sharp tug, spoke with as much authority as she could manage, “Come Red! You will move this log!”

Red’s only response was to lower his head and snort in her face.

Bursting into a fit of laughter, Loghain weakly choked out, “Well, I guess we now know who is master.”

“Very funny,” Parean scowled at Loghain as she wiped the slimy mucus from her face. “This sodding horse is as infuriating and obstinate as you!”

His laughter finally subsiding, he took the reins from her hands, “Here, allow me to show you how it’s done.” He turned away from Red and began to walk forward, applying steady pressure on the reins, “Come on boy. Let’s get this done.”

Parean snickered loudly, her expression beaming in satisfaction when Loghain came to an abrupt halt as Red firmly held his ground.

Loghain turned to face the stubbornly unyielding animal. Their eyes were narrow and hard as human and beast glared at each other in evenly matched defiance. Neither one was willing to be the first to back down. “You will do as I say!” The harsh growl slithered through Loghain’s firmly clenched teeth as he grasped the reins close to the bit and gave an authoritative pull. 

Red thrashed his head and snorted in protest, leaning his massive weight back on his hind legs to pull against the tension on his bit.

Exhausted from the trying events of the day, Loghain was in no mood to tolerate Red’s willful disobedience. Holding out the ends of the reins, he snapped them in the air with a loud **‘CRACK’**. Red jumped in surprise as Loghain barked, “I said **_move_**!” Outmatched, Red reluctantly conceded and Loghain was finally able to guide the now compliant horse forward until the log rested before the fire.

Loghain felt Parean’s gaze on his back as he untied the straps securing the log to Red’s saddle. An air of smug, self-satisfied triumph radiated from her, punctuated by her quiet, intermittent grunts. _‘She’s failing quite miserably at trying not to laugh.’_ Tossing the straps aside, he turned to face the smirking mage with a frustrated groan, “And what, pray tell, do you find so amusing?”

Parean’s eyes were alight with mirth and her body shook slightly from the effort of holding in her laughter. All she was able to manage in response was a tightly controlled, “Nothing…nothing at all”; her voice nothing more than a high-pitched squeak. She took several deep breaths to bring herself under control before continuing, “Thank you for, as you said, showing me ‘how it’s done’. It was truly inspiring.”

“I got the job done, did I not?” Flashing a sarcastic smirk of his own, he quipped “Thanks to me, your precious, tender arse will not be subjected to the _cold, hard_ ground.”

Clasping her hands together, she held them up to her chest, “Oh thank you, milord!” Her countenance glowed with mock sincerity. “It would have been dreadfully uncomfortable to stand all evening. What would I ever do without you?” She stared at him, eyes wide with feigned admiration, “And such a superb display of command! I am forever in awe of your many talents. Andraste has truly blessed me with the chance to learn at the foot of the master.”

Loghain shook his head gently and heaved an exasperated sigh, “You are simply impossible.” Wanting desperately to end the conversation, he turned away from her and took Red’s reins, “I’m going to put him away for the evening.” His cool tone made no pretense of hiding his irritation with her. “Don’t you have something useful to do? I am fairly certain that our evening meal will not prepare itself.”

“As you say, Ser,” she chuckled. “Perhaps you should stand over me with the horsewhip, just to be certain that I complete my task correctly.”

As he walked toward the makeshift stable, he caustically muttered to her from over his shoulder, “Do not tempt me.”

The peaceful night air was cool and crisp and a gentle breeze floated through the forest. Lost in his thoughts, Loghain hardly noticed the rustling of the leaves or the rhythmic sound of crickets softly chirping in the distance. To the casual observer, the atmosphere was idyllic in its serenity; a beautiful world still ripe with possibility. When Loghain looked at the world, he saw only the underlying threats to his beloved country. The looming Blight that was slowly consuming everything in its path, the ever present threat posed by Orlais, the traitorous actions of Rendon Howe that risked bringing about a civil war; he saw nothing but mounting dangers at every turn.

A brooding melancholy flooded his heavy heart as he worked to remove Red’s saddle. “At times it would seem that there is no solace to be found in all of Thedas.”

With his saddle gone, Red breathed in long and deep then snorted in satisfaction as he shook the dust from his body.

Loghain stood in silent reflection on his life and the bitter resentment that had ravaged his soul for more than thirty years rushed to the forefront. Maric had been his only confidant and since his passing five years ago, Loghain had not spoken of his feelings to anyone. With no one around to hear, he openly vented his aggression. “So many problems to solve, and who is it that everyone runs to seeking resolutions?” He gave a loud huff and waved his hands in the air with frustrated anger, “Me! That’s who…” His face contorted in disgust; the scornful tone in his voice echoing through the trees as he spat, “ _The Hero of River Dane_!” He let out a morose sigh, “No one seems to realize that ‘The Hero of River Dane’ was a young man who fought in a war over a lifetime ago. Why come to me? I am but one man and an old one at that…well past my prime.” 

Seeking to satisfy his craving for an outlet, he hurled a rock into the forest, “Damn you Maric! I never wanted this life nor these cursed responsibilities!” His mind paraded through an imagined timeline of how his life should have been, “I am no noble…no great man…no hero. My life was to be lived tending my father’s farm; teaching my children and grandchildren to plant and harvest.” An image of Anora, her belly swollen with his expectant grandchild, flashed through his thoughts, “I should be with my daughter as she celebrates one of the most important events in her life. But where am I instead, you ask?” he shouted into the vast emptiness, “I’ll tell you where…duty has me traipsing around Thedas in an attempt to defeat an insurmountable force by begging for aid from oblivious fools.” A dark, spiteful veil shrouded his eyes over the idea of what he was missing. “I will perish for those same fools and never see my grandchild because Ferelden, once again, needs its sodding nursemaid!”

Deep-set animosity threatened to push him beyond his limits. At that moment, Loghain uttered the words he never dreamed he would say, “Hear me Ferelden! I have had my fill of saving you from the brink of disaster! I have given more than my share to your service and it is never enough. You always demand more and more of me. What will you do when I am gone and there is no one for you to cower behind? Perhaps it is time that I let you stand on your own and allow The Maker to sort out your fate.”

Parean stood a short distance behind him, listening to his rant in stunned silence. Tears spilled down her cheeks as he gave voice to the frustration and anguish that had plagued his troubled life. Her heart broke for him; each painful and sorrow-filled word piercing her to the core. Unable to hold herself back any longer, she approached him with soft, careful steps and wrapped her arms around his waist. His body tensed for a moment then slowly he relaxed and gently rested his hands on hers. Above all else, she wanted to comfort him and heal the wounds that festered deep inside. She wanted to say something reassuring; that she would give anything to see him happy, but all she could manage was a whispered, “I’m so sorry,” her voice cracking sharply from the depth of her emotion.

Loghain gave her hands a tender squeeze then turned to face her. He stared at her for a long moment, cupping her cheeks in his hands and brushing away her tears with a gentle stroke of his fingers. Gazing into her clear blue eyes, brimming with love and sympathy for him, his heart ached, not from love but from sadness. _‘I stand here, holding the woman I love and all I can see is yet another joy in my life that I must sacrifice to my duty.’_ Taking her in his arms, he held her close as he wove his fingers into her hair, “For what, beloved?”

“For the heavy burden placed upon you.” She pressed her lips to his with a tender kiss. “It’s unfair that you are expected to do so much yet it would seem that no one appreciates what you have done and continue to do for them.” A thought struck her, “Loghain, let’s leave.” She shook her head at his look of surprise and silent protest, “No, you said yourself that Ferelden should stand on its own and you are correct. Perhaps it should live or die by the actions of its own people.”

The mere thought of running away with her gave Loghain pause for a brief moment, “And where would we run to?”

“Anywhere that is not _here_ ,” she said with an exaggerated sweep of her hand. “Antiva or Rivain. Tevinter…we can go to Tevinter. Mages are an accepted part of the citizenry and you would finally be able to shed the curse of ‘The Hero of River Dane’”.

“And what of the Blight? Do you truly believe Alistair capable enough to kill the Archdemon as the sole Warden in Ferelden?”

“Do you truly believe that we three alone can end the Blight?” Her somber expression affirmed the futility she felt over their appointed task. “Riordan was infinitely more skilled and experienced as a Warden than we, and he was killed in a small Darkspawn raid. How well can the three of us possibly fair against a Darkspawn horde led by the Archdemon?” 

Loghain pulled her close, “We can and we will.”

Dwelling on their plight served only to increase Parean’s frustration and brought to mind a question that she had not considered. “According to Duncan and Riordan, the Blight has been confirmed, so why has there been neither word nor aid sent from Weisshaupt? You are a commander of armies, is it not reasonable to believe that the First Warden, as the leader of the Grey Wardens, would send reinforcements?”

 _‘In truth, I have often wondered that myself,’_ Loghain thought in silent reflection. Hoping to quell the rise of her heightened emotional state, he spoke in what he hoped would be a reassuring manner, “I am certain that the First Warden is doing all he can to…”

“The First Warden is a tottering old fool.” Parean interjected with a low growl. “He cares more about his political position in the Anderfels than about those who are in his charge. In trying to secure his own political power, his actions are contrary the very core of the Grey Warden edict of neutrality.”

Loghain was well aware that he would not prevail in the quickly escalating argument and let out a resigned sigh, “Parean, this is a pointless discussion.”

Parean’s pale flesh flared bright red at what she perceived to be an insensitive and flippant remark, “Pointless, is it? It’s pointless for me to feel thoroughly disgusted with the cowardice of a people who are unwilling to defend themselves and would prefer that we, instead, fight and die to save them? It’s pointless for me to question the ineptitude and morals of a leader who refuses to lead when it conflicts with his own selfish goals?”

“Beloved,” he began, taking a deep breath to calm his own erratic emotions, “your feelings on the matter are not pointless to me; trying to make sense of the situation is, however. You’ve no idea of how tempting it is for me to run off with you and leave this all behind.”

Her awkward smile was barely visible on her lips and a slight glint of hope flashed in her eyes, “Then let’s do it, Loghain. We have so little time left before we perish, whether from the Blight or our eventual journey to the Deep Roads for our Calling. I do not wish to spend our short lives fighting a hopeless battle. I want to spend it with you, my love, basking in the happiness we have found together.” 

Loghain reached out to cup her cheek and Parean’s heart skipped a beat at the tender touch of his hand on her skin. A cold, numbing wave of disappointment flowed through her at the look of sadness in his eyes. She knew what he was going to say before he opened his lips to utter the words.

“No matter how much we may wish it, we cannot shirk our duty.”

As quickly as it came, the light of hope in her eyes died out, “To the Void with duty and your infuriating, irrational obsession with it!” With an overly exaggerated movement, she roughly swatted his hand from her face. Her countenance grew cold and she glared at him with eyes that burned with resentment, “And what of our duty to our love? Is that of no consequence?”

Loghain felt the tightening of his heart at her anguished expression as she turned from him, stormed across the camp and disappeared into the tent. _‘And this is why I tried to resist expressing my love for you. I did not wish to hurt you, beloved.’_ Not wishing to disturb her further, Loghain prepared himself for the long, sleepless night on watch.

#############################

The heavy, morose atmosphere that surrounded the Palace seemed disconcertingly similar to when they had first arrived in Denerim, with one small but significant difference. The flags bearing the heraldry of Denerim and the Theirin family had been replaced with a lone black flag that fluttered silently in the gentle breeze.

“Welcome back General Loghain and Warden Parean,” Kristoph greeted them with a bow as they climbed the stone steps toward the Palace doors. “I wish your return was under more pleasant circumstances.”

Loghain feared that there had been another attempt on Anora’s life though he kept his tone coolly neutral, “What’s happened, Kristoph?”

“The King and Queen wish to discuss that very matter with you, General. They have given strict orders that no one is to speak of it until they meet with you.” Kristoph opened the massive palace door and motioned for the pair to enter, “You shall most likely find them in the War Room.”

“I’ll leave you to your meeting.” Parean offered a quick and noticeably stiff salute. “Warden Commander.” Without another word, she made her way into the Palace.

Her brisk manner came as no surprise to Loghain. “That will be all. Return to your duties.”

“As you command.” Kristoph bowed in salute then turned to follow Parean. He halted mid-step when Loghain grabbed his shoulder.

“Stay at a distance but keep a weather eye on her, Kristoph.” Loghain’s slight smirk went unseen by Kristoph. “In her current state of mind, Maker only knows what she’ll do.” His mind ran through a quick gamut of possibilities, _‘I pity anyone who dares trifle with her today.’_

His posture straightened and the heels of his highly polished boots clicked together as Kristoph’s body swiveled around to face his commander. “Of course, General Loghain. You can be assured that no harm will befall her while I live.”

#############################

Parean paced in circles to-and-fro across the floor of her bedchamber. A small fire ball ignited and extinguished in rhythm with the opening and closing of her hand. The weighty tension infused in her nervous energy seemed to permeate the air around her. “ _No matter how much we may wish it, we cannot shirk our duty_. That’s your answer to everything! Oh, how well you hide yourself behind the shield of duty!” Overwhelmed with the depth of her anger, she hurled an ice ball at the door, “Curse you, Loghain Mac Tir! Curse the day I ever met you!” She jumped with a start as the door flung open and Kristoph, sword at the ready, rushed inside.

Kristoph surveyed the room in search of any signs of danger. Finding none, he brought his gaze to rest on Parean, “What happened, Warden? It sounded as though something hit the door.”

Embarrassed by her childish action, Parean’s face shone a brilliant crimson, “Everything is fine, Kristoph. I simply needed an outlet for my frustration.” Her upturned lips hinted at a smile as she chuckled, “Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to throw an ice ball at the door instead of a fire ball.”

He gave a slight chuckle in return, “Yes, Warden. I am quite certain that the King and Queen would not be very pleased with you if you burned their Palace to the ground in a fit of pique.”

“No, I don’t suppose they would be,” she replied quietly.

“Forgive my brashness, Warden, but…are you all right?”

Her smile warmed at his show of concern, “No, I’m not…but I will be, in time.”

The sound of a quiet “ahem” drew their attention to where Natira stood patiently waiting for them to notice her entrance, “Excuse me for interrupting, my lady. I was told that you had returned and I came to see if you needed anything.”

“Nothing right now. Thank you, Natira. Except…,” she stared at Natira with barely contained anticipation, “has there been any word?”

“Yes, my lady. The silv…” Natira glanced over at Kristoph.

“It’s all right,” Parean assured her. “Please continue, Natira.”

“As you say. The silversmith sent word that your item is completed.”

Parean reached out and hugged Natira in excitement, “Thank you! That is wonderful news! We will leave for the Alienage as soon as…”

There was a loud clanking of armor as a guard rushed into the room, “Ser Kristoph! An important message for you, Ser!”

Kristoph waited for the breathless man to continue, “Well, Lenard, out with it. What is this message?”

Lenard hesitated for a moment, uneasy about explaining the situation in the presence of Parean and Natira, then did as he was told, “Sergeant Kylon of the City Guard is requesting aid with a situation at The Gnawed Noble Inn. His men are refusing to enter as they believe there are people bearing the Taint inside.”

“Gather some men and meet me in the courtyard in five minutes!” Kristoph took no notice of Lenard’s hasty salute and departure. His eyes were wide and his skin was ashen as the color drained from his face, “I must leave immediately, Warden. I will send someone to guard you until I return.”

Parean’s mind began to race in the confusion, “What do you mean that you must leave? Loghain will be furious if you abandon your post.”

“I…I must get…to the inn,” his words sounded empty and disjointed.

His eyes held a look of desperation that began to seep into his voice, “My family…my wife and son…when the Darkspawn threatened Gwaren, I brought them to Denerim. They are staying at the inn. I must…”

“Go! Now!” Parean interjected. “Help your family. I will deal with Loghain if the need arises.” She firmly pushed him towards the door, “You must hurry!”

Shaken from his stupor by her prodding, he gave her a quick nod, “Thank you, Warden,” then ran out of the room to meet his men.

#############################

_‘Darkspawn! The Darkspawn are here!’_

_‘We are doomed! The Maker has truly forsaken us!’_

_‘Why is the City Guard doing nothing to stop this?’_

_‘They are more concerned with avoiding the Taint than protecting the citizenry.’_

_‘Will no one help those people?’_

Kristoph and his men pushed their way through the crowd. The scene at the inn was more horrific than his had imagined. Men and women were screaming at the guards to do something, anything, to help those inside. The hysterical crying of children rose above the din of the throng as they clung to anyone who offered protection. The desperate, guttural voices within as the dying begged for help made Kristoph’s blood run cold. _‘Maker, no! Delilah! Gregor! I must get to them!’_ A young boy gripped his arm, frantically tugging on it, trying to get his attention. He recognized the boy immediately. “Gregor!” Kristoph reached down and scooped his son up into his arms.

“Papa!” Gregor wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. “Papa! You’re here! You came back!”

“Gregor,” Kristoph forced himself to remain calm, “where is your mother?”

“She’s still inside, papa! She told me to climb out of the window and run away when the bad men came!” Gregor tried to wriggle out of his father’s grasp to no avail. “Please, papa! You have to save momma!”

Kristoph set Gregor on his feet, “Gregor, this is important.” His voice was authoritative yet gentle, “Who are the bad men? Have you seen them before?”

Gregor shook his head, “Yes. Before I ran away, I heard momma yell ‘Zorban!’ That’s the name of the sick man momma has been trying to help get better while you were stuck in the Palace. She got sick and couldn’t go see him anymore then he came here with the other bad men.” He grabbed Kristoph’s hand and began pulling him toward the inn. “Come, papa! You have to save her!”

Kristoph followed his son through the crowd to the front of the inn.

“Momma! Papa is here to save you! Please come out! Momma…Please!”

The wooden doors of the inn burst open as a woman charged out and stood gaping at the crowd. It took several moments before Kristoph recognized her and he gasped, “Delilah…” Her skin was mottled with dark patches of decaying flesh. Large clumps of her hair and scalp were missing and the blood drained from the gaping wounds to soak the few remaining strands of her long golden blonde hair. She stared at those gathered around; her dull, lifeless green eyes were tinged with an unnerving ghastly white. “The song…” she muttered in a raspy, almost inhuman voice, “I hear…the song…so…beautiful…”

“Momma!” Gregor ripped his hand from Kristoph and ran to his mother. “Momma!” He wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug.

Delilah let out a menacing growl as those nearest to her tried to pull Gregor away. She reached down and lifted him up to eye level, staring into his eyes with what appeared to be a curious fascination.

Gregor giggled with excited glee, “Everything will be good now! You and papa and me are all together again!” He looked into her eyes with all the adoration a child can express to a beloved parent, oblivious to what his mother had become. “I love you, momma!”

Those gathered around watched in shocked disbelief as Delilah suddenly shrieked and tossed Gregor through the air. He landed on the ground with a sickening **_‘thud’_** , completely motionless. She turned her attack on those within her reach. Kylon saved Gregor from being trampled by the frenzied crowd as Kristoph reluctantly drew his sword and cleaved her head from her shoulders.

“NO! OH MAKER, NOOO!” Kristoph dropped to his knees in pure, unbridled anguish. “Delilah…” he choked through his gut-wrenching sobs, “please forgive me, my love.” His soldiers formed a ring around him to keep the crowd at bay. 

Kylon carried the broken form of Gregor to where Kristoph sat and laid his still, lifeless body next to Delilah. “I am truly sorry for your loss, Ser Kristoph. Were the situation not dire, I would leave you to your mourning, but we must attend to the others still inside.”

Kylon’s words fell on deaf ears as Kristoph gathered the bodies of his wife and son in his arms, cradling them gently, “Why? Maker, why?”

Lenard ordered several men to remain outside with Kristoph then motioned for Kylon to follow, “He is lost to us. Come, we’ll go inside and finish this.”

Kristoph stared at the bodies of his wife and son. The memory of the last night they spent together at their home in Gwaren flashed through his mind.

#############################

_As Kristoph walked back toward his home, his mind raced trying to find the best way to tell his family about his coming departure. How was he going to explain what the Battle at Ostagar would mean? If the reports that General Loghain had received were true, how could they possibly hope to defeat the Darkspawn horde with so few men and only a hand full of Grey Wardens? They would likely be struck down before even laying eyes upon the main force of the horde, but it seemed they had little choice in the matter._

_When his home came into view he paused and let out a deep sigh to steady his nerves. Kristoph saw Delilah silently watching Gregor playing outside. He frowned as the thought of not being able to come back to them swelled in his mind, but he had to go even if that meant he wouldn’t return. With a determined nod, he headed toward his family, ready to tell them the news._

_Gregor spotted his father walking towards their home and ran to greet him. The two came together in a tender hug. Tears welled up in Kristoph’s eyes as the thought of leaving his little boy behind entered his mind._

_Delilah saw her husband’s sad eyes and a worried expression spread across her features. Placing her hand on his shoulder she asked, “What is the matter? Did something happen on your walk?” Her tone was gentle and filled with concern._

_Kristoph set his hand on hers, looked up at her, and nodded. “Yes, something happened. Come, let us go inside and I will tell you of it”. They went inside and sat in the wooden chairs that surrounded the dining table. Kristoph told his family of the orders he had received from General Loghain._

_“You can’t go! What would become of you if you went? What would become of us?” Delilah was furious, but more over she was terrified that if he left, he would never come back._

_Kristoph gently placed his hand on her shoulder. “I have to go, Delilah. Nothing would please me more than to stay here with you and Gregor, but alas it cannot be so”. His voice broke as he spoke and his eyes once again filled with tears._

_She lowered her head and gave a slight nod. “Do what you believe you must”, she said softly, tears falling from her face._

_“Come, let our last hours together be those of happiness and not of woe”, he said as he stood from his chair._

_They went down to swim and fish in the lake near their home. They played a game of Blind Man’s Bluff then sat in the soft grass and watched the sun go down over the water. The sky turned a beautiful orange and yellow color on the horizon, while the water shimmered brilliantly as the small waves caught the last rays of light. When they returned home they had a feast for Kristoph before retiring for the night._

_Kristoph was the only one who could not sleep. His mind continued to race, keeping him awake, so he watched his family as they lay sleeping. “I will make this world safe for them once again. I have to,” he thought as he sat with his back against the wall. He quietly slipped out of bed so as not to wake Delilah and went outside. Leaning against the side of his home, he stared at the moon and thought of what was to come. He tried to formulate some sort of plan, but they all ended in the same way; with his death. He resigned himself to think about it more on his journey and went back inside._

_When Delilah woke she saw that Kristoph was already in his armor, with his sword strapped to his hip and his shield on his back. “Certainly you did not plan to leave us so early?” Her voice held a hint of confusion._

_He couldn’t look at her and instead continued staring out of the window next to the entryway. “No, I did not anticipate leaving until I had a chance to say my farewells. I… I just wanted to be ready for when it was time”. His head lowered as he glanced over at his wife and smiled._

_Before long Gregor awoke to a light shining on him. He groaned in irritation at his sleep being interrupted and then he rose to be greeted by the solemn faces of his parents._

_They ate their last meal together in a strained silence then gathered outside of the home to say their farewells. Kristoph kneeled down in front of Gregor and placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “You are a fine young man, and you have always made me proud. I know I can count on you to take care of your mother and keep the both of you safe. I love you son.” With that he hugged Gregor as though he would never let him go._

_“And you, my lovely wife,” he said as he stood up and looked into her eyes. “I have known no greater joy in my life than in the years that I have spent with you and our son. You have truly made me the happiest man this land has ever known. Every day that I am gone, I will think of the both of you, until the day we defeat the Darkspawn and I return home to you. I will return my love, of that you have my word.” He embraced Delilah, tears streaming down his face and soaking into the shoulder of her dress._

_Gregor hugged his still embraced parents and they wrapped their arms around him. All three of them cried knowing that it was time for Kristoph to depart._

_He backed away from his family, his wife and son still in each other’s arms. “I do not know when I will return”. His voice was shallow and uneven._

_“Just make certain that you do return,” she said, walking up to Kristoph as she removed her necklace. “Take this, and when you have finished your deed, come home to us.” She placed the necklace in the palm of his hand, closed his fingers around it and gave him a slow, tender kiss on his lips._

_He gave her a nod then slid the necklace over his head. The pendant, bearing Delilah’s family crest, glistened in the early morning light. ‘I will return to you, my love’. He gazed upon his family and, with one last sad smile; he turned and made his way to join General Loghain at Gwaren’s Keep._

#############################

“Ser Kristoph. Ser Kristoph!”

Kristoph was jolted from his reverie as Kylon gruffly shook his shoulder. “Wh…what do you want of me?”

“We have cleared the inn. Most of those bearing the Taint are dead, though some did escape. I’m sorry to report that the one your son mentioned, Zorban, is among those that ran off. We have guards searching for them but finding them is not promising.” Kylon paused to give Kristoph time to absorb the information before continuing, “I have sent a messenger to Kinloch Hold, requesting healers for the injured. We suffered many losses in our ranks, including…” His voice trailed off as his collected himself, breathing a heavy sigh. “Including your second, Lenard. He yet lives but…I don’t believe he will last until the healers arrive.” Kylon regretted bringing unwanted news to a man already burdened with more grief than a man should bear. “If you wish to speak with him, Ser, I would humbly suggest you do so quickly.”

Kristoph could not believe what he heard. _‘First, my wife kills our son and then I am forced to slay my wife. Now, I am to lose my friend as well?’_ He looked up at Kylon, his eyes were red and swollen as tears still flowed down his cheeks, “But…I can’t leave Delilah…and Gregor.”

Kylon rested a gentle hand on Kristoph’s shoulder, “I will see that they are properly attended to. Please Ser; you must go now.”

Kristoph entered the inn and the stench of rotting flesh, fresh blood and gore nearly overwhelmed him. The majority of the people inside were dead; many with massive slicing wounds as though they had been clawed by a wild animal. He carefully stepped over the dead and the wounded, searching for Lenard’s body. He caught sight of the tainted men, their flesh still festering and continuing to slough off even in death.

“Help me…please…someone…help me.”

It was Lenard’s voice, small and wavering, calling out for help. Kristoph saw him a few feet away; he was badly wounded and had lost most of his left arm, but he was still alive. When he reached Lenard, he saw the full extent of the soldier’s wounds. There were shallow cuts on his chest and large gaping slashes that had hit vital organs in his abdomen. Lenard coughed violently and bright red blood splattered over his face. The blood mixed with his sweat causing his hair to adhere to his chilled flesh. He carefully lifted the dying man’s head and rested it on his lap.

Lenard slowly opened his eyes and saw Kristoph kneeling beside him. He asked weakly, “D-did we win, Ser?”

Looking down at the dying man, Kristoph nodded his head and replied softly, “Yes son, we won. Now, get some rest.”

Lenard smiled up at Kristoph and quietly faded away.

“You were a good soldier, my friend, and you didn’t deserve this. May you find peace in your eternal rest.” Kristoph gently set Lenard’s head on the ground. A shuffle of footsteps drew his attention as two soldiers came to a halt in front of him. “He’s gone.” Kristoph stood and watched as the soldiers carefully lifted Lenard’s body, took it outside of the inn, and placed it with the rest of the fallen. 

After receiving reassurance from Kylon that matters were well in hand, feeling both emotionally and physically drained, he willed himself to return to his duty at the Palace.


	27. A Tangled Web of Deceit and Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has stuck by my story for the ridiculously long hiatus...

**Chapter 27 – A Tangled Web of Deceit and Betrayal**

“Arl Eamon is dead.”

Loghain had scarcely set foot in the War Room before Cailan announced the dire news. Shutting the door behind him, Loghain hesitated for a moment; his mind already calculating the potential consequences of the situation. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, father.” Anora motioned with a slight wave of her hand to an envelope laying on the massive table in the center of the room. “We received this missive from Redcliffe.” 

**_‘To be delivered to King Cailan in Denerim. Extremely urgent!’_** was written in bold letters across the front of the envelope bearing the broken seal of the Arl of Redcliffe. Contained inside where a single sheet of parchment and two smaller envelopes; one labeled with Loghain’s name and one with Parean’s name.

Loghain removed the letter and began to read:

**_Your majesty,_ **

**_It is with regret that I inform you of the passing of Arl Eamon of Redcliffe and his son Connor. Both were gravely injured in the assassin’s attack. Connor perished during the attack with Arl Eamon following several days later._ **

**_It is also my great displeasure to inform you that Bann Teagan has also been taken to the Maker’s side. It appears that his entourage was attacked on the road from Rainesfere and all, save Bann Teagan, were killed. Bann Teagan continued toward Redcliffe despite being gravely injured. Sadly, his body was found on the outskirts of Redcliffe._ **

**_Arlessa Isolde is working to regain order and stability to the Arling. I have pledged what aid we can provide to the Arlessa until duty requires our departure._ **

**_Please accept my deepest sympathies for your loss. This is a devastating blow to you and to all of Ferelden._ **

**_With a heavy heart,_ **

**_Senior Warden Alistair_ **

Looking up from the paper, the intense stare from Loghain’s steel blue eyes was met with a determined gaze from Cailan’s sapphire blue eyes. “Well, Cailan,” he began with an authoritative, matter-of-fact tone, “You know the players of the game and what has come about as a result so what, exactly, do you plan to do now?”

Cailan nodded to the guard nearest the door who bowed in return and quickly left the room. “We don’t know everything as of yet. Cauthrien has some additional information but she requested that you should be present when she reveals it.”

Cauthrien entered the War Room and set several pieces of paper on the table. 

Loghain glanced through the documents, “What is all of this?”

“This sheds light on the whole of the conspiracy.” She carefully sorted the papers into two separate stacks.

Loghain scoffed, “We know how events transpired. Howe hired the Crows to murder Eamon, Teagan, the Couslands, Anora and myself, presumably in some misguided effort to control Cailan and acquire more power for himself.”

“Yes, my Lord, but there is more to the story.” Cauthrien picked up one of the stacks and showed it to Loghain. “You may recall that after executing Zevran, I found these documents and letters among his belongings.”

“Of course. That is how we learned that Howe was involved.” Loghain’s scowl deepened with his irritation at what he considered a useless re-examination of information that was already known to him.

Cauthrien was unmoved by his apparent frustration. “At that time, I mentioned that I found other information that needed to be verified before bringing it forward. What I found was almost too incredible to be believed but is absolutely true. I would stake my life on it.”

“You have my full and complete attention, Cauthrien.” Loghain trusted her judgement without question and he waited anxiously for the full story to finally be revealed.

“Arl Howe was escorted to the palace for questioning regarding his involvement in the assassination attempts. He denied it, of course, until I showed him the letter from Valisti as well as the letters exchanged between himself and Ignacio.” Her face hinted at a very self-satisfied expression. “After spewing out an impressive list of expletives, he was all too willing to admit his role and expose his co-conspirator.”

“Co-conspirator?” Cailan interjected in breathless surprise. “You mean Howe enticed another to join his plan?”

Cauthrien shook her head, “On the contrary, according to his claim, the ‘co-conspirator’ was actually the originator of the plot and enticed him to join her.”

Anora arched a brow in disbelief, “To join her? He claims that a woman was responsible?”

“Yes, majesty. Specifically, Losira Cousland.” Cauthrien picked up the second stack of papers. “Naturally, I accused him of lying. Losira Cousland was murdered with her family in the attack on Highever so it was absurd to believe that she orchestrated her own murder. What would she possibly hope to gain in doing so? I demanded that he prove his outrageous claim. He told me where to find the letters exchanged between himself and Losira in his estate.” She handed the stack to Loghain. “These are the letters we retrieved from Howe’s hiding place.”

Loghain sorted through all the documents. “Are you certain that these were written by Losira and not by Howe or one of his servants?”

She nodded her head in affirmation, “I compared the writing to other documents that were written by Losira. In my opinion, the writing on both papers match.”

Loghain read aloud the letter that set everything into motion:

**_My dearest Arl Howe,_ **

**_In light of information recently brought to my attention, I would make a proposal to you that would be to our mutual benefit. Given the sensitive nature of the letter, I would ask that you destroy it after you have read it._ **

**_I have learned through carefully worded conversations with Thomas and Delilah as well as rumors that I have found to hold some measure of truth, that you believe your family was wronged by mine and that you should be the rightful sovereign over Highever. It is said that you covertly seek a way to right that wrong._ **

**_We share a somewhat common belief in that I have been wronged and cheated out of my rightful position as well. It is I, not Anora, who should be queen. She only sits on the throne as payment for ‘services rendered’ by her commoner father. Giving the ‘closeness’ of Maric and Loghain’s relationship, one has to wonder just what ‘services’ he performed to merit the rewards heaped upon his family, but I digress._ **

**_Regardless, I offer you an opportunity to assist me in setting both of our circumstances to right._ **

**_Allow me to be blunt. I suggest that Cailan is the key to solving both of our problems. He is rather…simple-minded…and needs constant direction from his advisors. Should those closest to and having the most influence with Cailan somehow ‘disappear’ from his life, he would need to seek his guidance elsewhere._ **

**_My proposal is that we arrange the permanent ‘removal’ of Anora, Loghain, Eamon, Teagan and my family. Once they are dealt with, I will endear myself to Cailan. It is well known that he has a wandering eye and is easily manipulated by a pretty face. Once I am queen, I will turn Highever over to you. When Cailan is no longer of use, he can be dealt with and I will marry Thomas, thus joining the Cousland and Howe families as the rulers of Ferelden._ **

**_Give my proposal some consideration if your like but know that I intend to carry out my plan with or without your aid. You can benefit from my plan or become a victim of it._ **

**_The choice is yours. I await your answer but do not tarry long._ **

**_Lady Losira Cousland_ **

“I cannot believe Losira would conceive of such actions. She always presented herself as a friend and ally of the throne.” Anora breathed a heavy sigh. “Obviously Howe accepted her offer but how is it that she did not survive the attack?”

Loghain chuckled under his breath and held up another letter, “Because Losira was foolish enough to allow Howe to make the arrangements.”

**_Valisti,_ **

**_Our agreement is made._ **

**_The initial payment for your services accompanies this letter. You have the information on who is to be dealt with by your agents. When I am notified that our agreement is completed, you shall receive the remainder of your payment._ **

**_Let me be clear, whoever attends to the Cousland family is to leave no survivors._ **

**_Arl Rendon Howe_ **

“Not surprising. Howe was never one to share his power.” Loghain’s gaze returned to Cailan, “So I ask you again, Cailan, what do you intend to do?”

There was a certain confidence in his stride as Cailan approached Loghain and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I have called the Landsmeet. I will present the evidence of Howe’s crime and order his execution. We can also deal with determining suitable replacements for Teyrn Cousland, Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan.” Cailan had expected an unfavorable reaction from Loghain. He was not disappointed.

“And that’s it?” Loghain fumed, slapping Cailan’s hand from his shoulder. “You’ll allow a traitor to live even one more day? If you truly wish to emulate Maric as you always claim, you would tend to the matter personally and that traitorous bastard would receive his just reward before the sun set.”

“We must be cautious in our handling of the matter, Loghain.” Cailan knew it to be pointless but he attempted to reason with him none-the-less. “Howe has many allies which will be needed to join the fight against the Blight. They will need convincing of his guilt before accepting any form of retribution.”

“Harrumph…politics,” Loghain grumbled with an incredulous sneer, “playing games to secure power and position instead of taking care of problems in a timely manner.” He retrieved the two smaller envelopes from the table and turned to leave the room with a dismissive wave of his hand, “It is of no concern to me, Cailan. You are king, after all; handle things as you will.”

#############################

“It’s…perfect. Just as I envisioned.”

Parean stared in awe at the silversmith’s work resting gently in her hand. All traces of the overwhelming frustration and hurt she felt toward Loghain vanished. Holding her treasure to her heart, she gave the elven silversmith a bow of respect and smiled with appreciation, “You are truly a masterful craftsman.”

The silversmith’s rigid stance softened and his face was flush. “Never before have I received such a compliment from a shemlen.” He bowed in return, “Ar mirthadra…I am honored.”

“Begging your pardon warden,” Kristoph’s sudden but gentle interjection awoke Parean from her reverie. “We must return to the castle before you are missed.” 

“Of course, you are correct, Ser Kristoph.” She was keenly aware of the anguished expression in his eyes and his more subdued demeanor. Upon his return from the Gnawed Noble Inn, she had inquired about his family. He simply stated, “They did not survive,” and nothing more. Her heart went out to him with a softly whispered “I’m sorry” and she left him to his private grief.

#############################

Natira was shuffling around Parean’s room, pretending to tidy the bed and furnishings while she waited anxiously for her mistress to return. She yelped in shock when Parean surprised her with a tight hug. “My lady! You nearly scared me out of my skin!”

“Forgive me but I wanted to thank you for taking me to the Alienage silversmith!” Parean retrieved a small satchel from her robe and drop its contents into Natira’s hand. “Look at it…is it not beautiful?”

Natira examined the small silver piece from every angle, “Yes, it is, my lady. May I ask why you are not wearing it?”

Parean’s soft smile spread across her features, “Because it is not for me. It is a gift for Loghain.”

“Parean!” As though on cue, Loghain’s voice boomed through the hallway.

Parean shook her head and sighed, “The Master calls.” She placed Loghain’s gift in the satchel and exited her room, nearly running headlong into his chest. “You bellowed Warden Commander?” she muttered with a sarcastic smirk.

“This is no time for your quips, Parean. We have serious matters to discuss.” Loghain glanced at Natira with a dismissive glare and she obliged him by quickly leaving the room. He closed the door then turned to face Parean. “Arl Eamon, Connor and Bann Teagan are dead. Cauthrien has discovered that, while Arl Howe was intimately involved, he was not the architect of the conspiracy.” Parean sat in stunned silence as his continued, “Losira Cousland was the mastermind behind it all. She, of course, received her just reward for her treachery with Howe’s betrayal.”

After a few long moments, the reality of the situation settled into her mind, “Loghain,” she breathed, “What is to be done?”

“That is not our concern.” He waved off her impending rebuttal, “Cailan has made his decision and, regardless of how foolish that decision may be, the matter is settled.” He handed her a small parchment and envelope. “This was a letter addressed to me that accompanied the missive. This is a matter for our concern.”

Parean unfolded the letter and began to read; her mind racing to understand its content:

**_Loghain,_ **

**_I am sure, by now, that you have read the missive to Cailan and know of Eamon, Connor and Teagan’s fate. The information in that missive is NOT the whole story._ **

**_I have relayed the “official story” of the events to Cailan as it is in everyone’s best interests that the true happenings should be known only to a select few._ **

**_Know that the “situation” has been resolved, much to the irritation of Morrigan at the “inconvenience” placed upon her which was the one bright spot through it all._ **

**_I shall inform you fully when we regroup in Orzammar._ **

**_Alistair_ **

“I wonder what this means…what happened in Redcliffe?”

Loghain paced the room with a nervous energy, his thoughts brimming with possible scenarios that could explain Alistair’s cryptic message. “Your guess is as good as mine at the moment.” He gestured to the envelope in her hand, “Perhaps what is in your letter will shed some light.”

Parean had failed to give much notice of the envelope until turning it over and seeing her name neatly printed on its face. Hoping that it would provide some kind of answer or explanation, she opened the letter and read it aloud:

**_Sister,_ **

**_Tis I and, yes, I did indeed call you ‘sister’. We are, after all, both mages and not as un-alike as one may think. Given that we have shared blood from your revival ritual, I think it not unreasonable to term our relationship as such._ **

**_Your return is imperative. Not due to recent events, tis no concern of mine, but ‘twould serve your cause well to keep me from relieving this world of the addlebrained simpleton it has been my displeasure to accompany._ **

**_All he speaks of is concern for you. He is quite upset that you are alone with Loghain. ‘Twould be amusing were his constant, incessant rambling and bemoaning not so irritating._ **

**_Apparently, he wishes to have words with you upon your return. Allowing me to be present when you speak with him shall be all the repayment I require for my suffering with his presence. There is no need to “let him down gently”; the more he suffers, the more I shall forgive you._ **

**_Do not linger or there shall be one less warden to deal with the Blight._ **

**_Morrigan_ **

Parean chuckled as she placed the letter back in the envelope, “Ah, poor long-suffering Morrigan. At least she’s giving us a warning before she kills Alistair. I’m actually surprised that she hasn’t done so already.”

“Her letter, while both amusing and somewhat irritating, does not help to explain what is going on.” Loghain strode across the room toward the door, planting a quick kiss on Parean’s forehead as he passed. “I have already sent word for Alistair and Morrigan to proceed to Orzammar. I have a small errand to intend to while the preparations are made for our departure. We shall leave early tomorrow morning.”

Parean leaned against the wooden door, listening to his footsteps grow quiet as he moved down the hallway. Once again, she pulled the small satchel from her robe and held it close to her heart. “Now…” she sighed, “now I just have to find the right time to give this to him.”


End file.
